The Chapters of Life
by idnh-azuresky
Summary: You know who I am," it read. "On your eighteenth birthday, the day you've hopefully finished this book, call me... if you wish to." Sarah's wishes are no longer what they used to be - but do they still involve the same certain goblin king?
1. In My Defense

**The Chapters of Life**

Chapter One: In My Defense

_In my defense what is there to say_

_All the mistakes we made must be faced today_

_It's not easy now knowing where to start_

_While the world we love tears itself apart…_

Queen, In My Defense.

She didn't know, at first.

In her defense, looking back, there weren't many reasons for her to have known. A little hint here and there, the vaguest feeling of a possibility – things that might be noticed in hindsight, but too easily overlooked at the time.

Sarah gave a soft sigh and buried her face in her hands. She was leaning against the window sill of her room, her elbows numb from leaning on them for so long and her nose half-frozen in the cold. On the window sill beside her elbows lay an innocent-looking book, a bookmark slipped in somewhere between the last two pages. She was constantly worrying that the book might fall out the window, and that she might have to sneak out at this late hour to retrieve it. But she was too afraid to touch the book, even to put it far away from her, and so she stood there, agonizing… and remembering.

It wasn't until her sixteenth birthday that she could have noticed that something was up. Sure, even before that, she could now think of a dozen of clue: the white barn owl that she assumed must have nested by her window, for it appeared so often; the strange, even paranoid feeling she sometimes felt before switching on the light that she was being watched; a dark figure disappearing from the corner of her eyes as she quickly turned. But there was always a rational reason that could explain such things away. It wasn't, after all, that uncommon for birds to be nesting close to the house, and she might very well get paranoid when she was stressed out or tired. The human imagination was a volatile thing.

It was also very believable – didn't she know all about that! What was it that Caesar had said? "Men in general are quick to believe that which they wish to be true." It was certainly easy for her to believe such explanations. So she continued to live a normal life. She grew. Toby grew. She became friends with him and his mother. She still had hissy fits and raging quarrels with both. She went to school. She tried out for plays. She read.

She celebrated, on her sixteenth birthday. It was like any other normal birthday. She ran downstairs in the morning, was hugged by her father and step-mother, talked on the phone briefly with her mother, ate breakfast, and gave Toby a peck on the cheek before she ran out to greet her friends. They went through the usual routine of squealing and giggling in classes with teachers being more lenient because of her birthday, went out for movie and ice cream afterwards, and came home for a nice, cozy birthday party, complete with homemade cake and heartfelt presents.

Presents. Sarah shivered slightly, recalling that memory. Again, it was the usual horde that day. The requisite books that were passed around the circle, a few girlish stuff they cooed over, money to be spent however she wished, and a number of packages that had started arriving days before.

Her mother had sent one, of course. Other relatives and old-time friends who lived far away had been kind enough to send a few, as well. She resolved to and did phone the senders after the party to thank them for their kindness.

One of them, however, had had no name on it, and she had not been able to figure out who had sent such a gift – at least not for a long, long time…

"_Another one for the birthday girl," Katherine, one of her best friends, sang as she threw a small box wrapped in brown paper at Sarah, who instinctively caught the thing._

"_Any names?" her father asked, looking over her shoulder._

_Sarah shook her head. "Nope." She turned it over a couple of times just to make sure. "No name. Why wouldn't anyone let me know that they're sending a gift?"_

"_Secret admirer," Francine, the girl who had only come to her school two months previously but had become fast friends with her, nodded earnestly. "You just wait. It's going to be something personal."_

_Her father looked amused, while others giggled. Sarah, blushing just the slightest bit, slowly ripped the brown paper away to reveal a nice, rounded square box, the velvety kind that usually held jewelry._

"_I think you just might be right," Katherine told Francine as the rest of the girls inched closer, curious, to see what it was. Suddenly feeling rather self-conscious, Sarah ran her finger down the smooth surface of the box before opening it almost reluctantly._

_Instantly, a gasp of "oooh" and "ahhh", half in admiration and half in joking manner, spread throughout the room. Surprised herself, mouth slightly open in shock and eyes widening, Sarah slowly took out the content of the box and held it up to the light._

_It was a golden bracelet, one that was extremely intricate. Complicated patterns were woven throughout the entire jewelry, with small rings and pieces of gold connecting to each other seemingly endlessly. With the tiny gems embedded, the bracelet looked both delicate and beautiful in its indescribable intricacy. _

"_Told you," Francine said, sounding both smug and rather breathless._

_Sarah could not take her eyes away from the golden bracelet, glittering in the light. "But who could it from?" she asked, slightly taken aback at the beauty of the surprise gift._

"_Put it on," Katherine urged. She sounded just as excited. "And wear it to school tomorrow – it's probably someone from school, right? He'll probably approach you soon, after seeing you wear it."_

"_Now hold on. I'm not sure I should allow any young man to approach my daughter without my permission," Sarah's dad began in a humourous voice, earning a light slap on the shoulder by Karen, Sarah's step-mother. _

"_Oh come now," Karen said. "She's sixteen, Robert. She's allowed to have boyfriends."_

_Robert gave an amused shake. "I know. But one that buys her such gifts without saying anything? That thing does look quite expensive."_

"_Well, she can't return it if she doesn't know who gave it to her," reasoned Katherine, who knew Sarah's parents well enough to comfortably cut in between their conversation. She turned back to the girls, who were now passing it around and exclaiming about the details. "Come on, Sarah," she urged her friend again. "Put it on!"_

"_All right, all right, I will," Sarah answered finally, getting the bracelet back from one of the girls. She frowned for a moment, trying to find where the clasp might be. "I can't…" Ah, there it was. She found a clasp that was hooked onto the biggest ring of the chain, and unfastened it before putting the bracelet around her and hooking it back on. It felt nice, slightly cold on her wrist, and again, speculation began as they began to coo over the glistening chain…_

Remembering that first time, Sarah took her face out of her hands. The bracelet still glistened from her wrist, and she absent-mindedly turned it around and around, a habit that told any observer that she had worn it many times. In truth, she had rarely taken it off, though it had not worn at all during the two years since; even now a close inspection would not reveal a scratch, though the intricate pattern still amazed her, so complicated, so beautiful, so… _labyrinthine_.

What could be noticed under close inspection now took her breath away. The largest ring that served as the clasp had a tiny ornament in the shape of a heart dangling from it. At the corner of that little heart was an inscription – or rather, a carved initial.

_J_.

There were, of course, as always, a rational explanation. Well, perhaps the name of the bracelet's designer started with a J, and he or she carved it into every piece completed. Or perhaps the name of the boy who had so thoughtfully sent her the gift started with a J.

But days passed, and nobody stepped up to claim the gift. No blushing classmate from school asked to talk to Sarah after class, and no nervous phone calls were made.

Did that mean the gift sender was not from school? That was entirely possible as well. And she accepted that answer, and moved on. Maybe that person had lost interest. Maybe it wasn't from a secret admirer after all, but a very good friend, or someone who felt he or she owed something to her. Maybe something unexpected had come up – maybe that boy had to move out of town or something, and felt that it was futile to claim the gift as his.

She absolutely refused to believe that it might be from someone from outside the town… outside the country… outside the damn world that she lived in. She did not even consider such a possibility. After all, she had talked to Hoggle and her other friends from the Underground that day and had received hugs and little gifts for her sixteenth birthday, hadn't she? And no goblin would be able to create such a beautiful masterpiece or think to give her a present anyways.

And there was no one else, she told herself firmly, not one person who could send her a gift from the Underground. So no, this wasn't a supernatural gift at all. It was just a nice little bracelet from an unknown sender, from _her own world_. There was nothing else to it.

She told herself so firmly, she nearly believed it herself.

And she lived that way for the year after that. Looking back now, she almost didn't know why she was just so firmly against the idea that he – they, not he, _they_, the goblins, might come back into her world. Certainly she'd kept in touch with her other friends, the dear Hoggle, Sir Didymus, and Ludo. So why not others from the Underground?

After her seventeenth birthday, when she had to admit to the fact that there was _something_ in her life that wasn't quite normal, besides her adventure and knowledge of the Underground, she'd told herself that it was fear, it was denial. She was too afraid to believe that something bad may happen again, that she may have to live through another terrifying thirteen hours – for exciting as it was, the fear of losing had left a scar – and thus she denied that there was anything wrong. Sticking head into sand, so to speak.

But when she became seventeen, she'd had to acknowledge the disorder in her life. There were many factors; the white barn owl that had up till now been satisfied flitting in and out of her sight now followed her at night when she went for walks. Many times, she was sure that she had heard her name, a whisper that was closer to a sigh gently carried to her by the wind. Even more often, she caught sight of a shadow that looked all too similar to a goblin scurrying away from her when she turned to investigate, whether in her house, at the park, at the school, or out shopping.

She could still have clung to the illusion of safety, perhaps. But by then, she didn't want to. The shiver that went down her spine was fear no more, but rather excitement. Life was once more becoming enriched by magic. She didn't want to lose it again.

And of course, there was the matter of yet another anonymous gift presented to her on her seventeenth birthday…

_This time, it was a rather quieter affair. There was still cake, still presents, still friends and movies and ice cream. _

_But Toby had grown so much, and demanded so much time. Karen just didn't have time and energy to hold a huge party for her._

"_That's all right," Sarah had said when Karen apologized to her several days in advance, the words of acceptance surprising both herself and her step-mother. Before, Sarah thought - and was sure Karen was thinking as well -, before she would have screamed and stomped and yelled at her for favouring her own child, the son of the family, over her step-daughter. Before, she would have gone weeping into her room._

_Before, she would have wished Toby away._

"_I'm too old to be having parties like that now, anyways," Sarah had gone on. "I'll just have a nice girl's night with my friends in my room, and for dinner we can go out."_

_Karen had thanked her. _

_So it was a smaller affair. Sarah found that she still had fun anyways, the teasing and giggling between her friends, sneaking downstairs to grab midnight snacks. Yes, it was still fun, and though the activities had changed, it was still normal, still average, still teenaged fun. _

_She didn't call her friends from the Underground that day. Though they still kept in touch with each other, it was becoming more and more difficult for all four of them to meet at the same time. Often she spent time with just Hoggle, or Didymus and Ambrosius, or Ludo. They were still very good friends, and Sarah felt sure that she would never grow up too much to lose them; but though she could stop growing up, she couldn't help growing apart as time went on. _

_She'd arrange for a meeting for all four of them, she'd decided as she fell asleep between human friends. So what if it was a few days late? It was time for them to meet again. Maybe in about a week, she promised herself. Her birthday, if a bit different, would still remain normal. _

_It all seemed normal enough when she woke up at two past noon on her birthday, having stayed up all night before with her friends. It felt normal enough as she stretched, yawned, and pondered sleeping just a few minutes more. It was normal enough for her to decide to grab a book to read in bed instead._

_Then she saw what lay on the table beside her, and suddenly it didn't feel so normal or safe any more._

Sarah glanced at the book. Now, just minutes before her eighteenth birthday, she still had not finished the book, though it wasn't very long.

She wasn't meant to finish the book until today.

The book, bound in olive green leather, was new when she received it, but it appeared worn out and old even then. The words in it were in elegant script, almost as if it was written by hand, like the books from old ages when each book had to be copied and decorated by hand, before the printing press.

And each of the "chapters" began with a date, though it was not a journal. It was more of a… memoir.

The first chapter had the date of the day after her birthday, the day she found the book on her bedside table, on it. The second chapter had the date after that day. The third chapter the date after, and the fourth, and the fifth, and the sixth…

And so on it ran for three hundred sixty five chapters, three hundred sixty six days.

What made her read the chapters in order, according the dates written on it? What made her, Sarah Williams, follow the rules and commands of others?

Actually, there were no instructions. She was not told to read them in order, nor was she told that there would consequences if she read ahead. And Sarah wasn't the type to be afraid of any punishments from arbitrary rules and magic in any case.

It was more the fact that she was scared to death of the book, that it took extreme courage for her to even pick it up at night before going to sleep every day.

The content the chapters contained wasn't horrifying or filled with gore or anything. It didn't exactly tell a story, in fact. It more told the feelings and thoughts of a "character" as he experienced events that affected him greatly.

It was just that the events that were implied in the stories were so familiar to her. Though there wasn't a dialogue, specifically, sometimes the narrator would agonize over a word that someone had said to him or that he had said – words that sounded so strangely familiar to her, as if she had spoken or heard them. Though he never described what had happened step by step, some events that she could gleam from the book were chillingly familiar, as if she had already read them in a book long time ago and recited the lines from it – or as if she had lived through the events herself.

Now she had one chapter left to read.

She leaned back from the window. Took a couple of deep breaths.

Finally, she reached for the book.

Opening the book to where it had been marked, she glanced down at the last chapter of the book. She was surprised to find that there were only two lines on the page.

_You know who I am,_ it read. _On your eighteenth birthday, the day you've hopefully finished this book, call my name._

_If you wish to._

Somewhere, behind her, the clock struck twelve. It was her eighteenth birthday.

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Reviews definitely welcome! 


	2. Once Upon A Dream

Just a brief note: There was a really good point about the names of Sarah's step-mother and of her friend, by FairiesMidwife. When I was searching for the name of her step-mother (good ol' google and wikipedia...), I found Irene, so I used that name. Naming her friend Karen was, of course, a rather stupid mistake on my part. I'm sorry for the confusion - I didn't realize it might be a problem, though I should have.

To prevent any confusion, I edited the first chapter(or at least it should/will be, as soon as I figure out how): her step-mother's name is Karen, and her friend previously named Karen is Katherine.

Again, I apologize for any confusion it may have caused, and I hope you'll enjoy this chapter!

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**The Chapters Of Life**

Chapter Two: Once Upon A Dream

_You were heaven-sent to me_

_Was it never meant to be?_

_Was it just a dream?_

_Could we begin again -_

_Once upon a dream…_

Once Upon A Dream (Jekyll & Hyde)

_You know who I am. On your eighteenth birthday, the day you've hopefully finished this book, call my name._

_If you wish to._

Sarah read the words again, more slowly, as the sound of the clock died away.

Well, it was her eighteenth birthday. And she'd finished the book. And she was pretty darn sure who wrote those words – though she could hardly even say the name in her head, the coward that she was.

Coward… Was that what she was? Truly? Sarah Williams?

She let the book fall to the carpet. Her eyes were focused on the open window. Her feet took a couple of uncertain steps back. Her mouth opened a bit, moving ever so slightly, and let out a sigh that might or might not have been a name.

_Jareth…_

If she stopped herself now – if she just went to her bed right now and slept, would everything be over in the morning? If she rejected his plea once more, would she be allowed to live a normal life? She somehow doubted it, seeing as how her earlier rejection appeared not to have stopped him. Yet did that mean he could be planning revenge, and somehow, by calling him now, she was falling into his trap?

So many thoughts twirled in her head. She shivered. Another choice that she had to make. She did not know what she wanted, what her wish was.

What her wish was…

Her eyes fell on the words on the book lying on the ground.

_If you wish to._

She let out a short laugh. Normality be damned – conformity be damned. What Sarah Williams wanted was magic, the kind that could enchant you, kill you, take your boredom and redundancy away.

What she wanted was to see the man who had granted her wish years ago, who represented everything forbidden and exotic: magic that was out of control, impossible wishes that could come true, emotions she was too young to yet truly feel. She wanted to see the goblin king who could kill her and who had very much tried to kill her, the secret admirer who had sent her gifts, the man who was now waiting for her.

"Jareth." A whisper. "Jareth." Feet stumbling backwards. "_Jareth!_" she cried, her eyes closing in anticipation, her entire body shrinking away from the open window.

A strong wind swept into the room through the window. It hit her hard, making her coil backwards. She fought to keep her balance, a surprised gasp escaping from her mouth at the sudden force. The curtains flapped frantically, beating against the walls.

Suddenly, as quickly as it had come, the wind calmed. Sarah fell to her knees. There was nothing in front of her. Breathing harshly, Sarah furiously shook her head, trying to calm her breathing, her heartbeat, the tears beginning to sting in her eyes, the storm of disappointment and disbelief raging inside her –

"Well. I could have sworn I heard someone say my name."

Sarah's head jerked up.

A pair of mismatched eyes greeted her. The shaggy blonde hair was as unruly as ever. The smirk was as arrogant as ever, though there was a strange gentleness to it.

"Jareth." The name escaped from her lips.

Now there was laughter in his face as he took a casual step forwards, tilting his head to the side. "I'm very glad you haven't forgotten my name… Sarah."

Sarah struggled to her feet, quite put out that she had been on her knees when he appeared. A kind of irrational anger seemed to be growing inside her, and she tried to quell it. After all, she wasn't a child of fifteen, prone to dramatic outbursts, any more, was she?

Instead, composing herself, she scooped to pick up the book as she stood. She turned it over and over in her hand, averting her eyes, wondering just what she could say to this fey standing in front of her.

Finally she looked up, then held the book out in one hand. "Why?" she asked simply. She let him figure the question out himself.

His exotic eyes flickered to the book once before returning to her. His expression had lost some of its previous mirth, though he had a smile still plastered on his face. "Why what?" he asked silkily, and before she could throw the book at his head, being mature and grown up be damned, he added, "Or rather, if you were asking me why I had given you that book…Why _not_?" his eyes danced for a second with amusement.

He leaned on the window sill, looking relaxed, but for the uncertainty in his eyes that watched her too closely. He still made an attempt to appear as the casual and confident goblin king. "It was your seventeenth birthday, after all, wasn't it?"

"Why this?" Sarah asked, quietly, refusing to let him distract her by getting her annoyed. It might have worked before, but no more.

There was a pause. The enigmatic eyes finally looked away from her, flitting across the room, avoiding her. Instead of being impatient, however, Sarah waited calmly for his answer – though if he said "Why not" again in that arrogant tone of his, she was sure the book, along with many other objects, _would_end up attacking his rugged hair.

Thankfully, he did not. His answer, when it came, was soft, quieter than she could ever have imagine coming from his full, confident lips, and more uncertain that she could ever have imagined the goblin king to be.

"Because I wanted you to know," Jareth said, his eyes averted, staring into the distance, and his body half turned away from her, almost dismissively.

The tension between them was now almost tangible; Sarah could taste it in her mouth, could breathe in its scent, could feel every trace of it across every inch of her skin. The room seemed to spin; her mouth was dry.

"Know… what?"

The goblin king finally returned his gaze to her. This time, it was not intense nor enigmatic, but rather mocking. "Do you always ask what a book was about after finishing it, Sarah?"

What the book was about… Confessions of love that wasn't love, declarations of indifference that did not exist, acts of hatred that had died out…

Sarah's hands tightened on the book. "Do you always believe everything you read, Jareth?" Sarah returned, just as mockingly.

Jareth winced, both at her words and at the sound of his name, this time so full of venom. He pushed himself up from the window sill and stalked towards her, stopping when she took a step back. "So you don't believe what you read in that book is true?" He forced his tone light.

She opened her mouth, then closed it. She glanced down at the book. She looked up. "Should I?" she asked, then added, in a much softer tone, "Can I?"

He laughed softly. "We meet after two years, and all we seem to be saying are questions," he said, almost ruefully.

"I…" Sarah's uncertainty showed through her expression for a moment. "A lot of loose ties and questions were left," she finally said.

"I see." His face was unreadable.

She hesitated for a moment. Then she asked, as quietly as she could, trying hard not to make the question offensive, "Why are you here? Why… today?"

"Questions again," Jareth observed. He sighed. "I'm here because you called me, Sarah. It was your wish."

"You told me in the book to call you – "

"_If you wished to_. Evidently, you wished to," Jareth interrupted her.

Sarah bit her lips. "Is everything about you involved with my wishes?" she asked, sounding far more harsher than she felt.

The goblin king blinked.

She stepped forwards, hardly knowing what her body was doing. "You said once that everything you'd done, you'd done for me," she said, knowing that she was treading dangerous grounds, bringing up the painful memory. Indeed, she could see the instant stiffening of the goblin king's body.

Regardless of the danger, she went on recklessly, "Now you say that you are here because I wished it. Is there anything you do, related to me, that does not directly stem from any one of my _damned_ wishes – "

As quickly as lightning, the goblin king was in front of her, grabbing her wrist, stopping her tirade. His narrowed eyes looked down at her, the expression in them hard. "You have _no_ idea what you're talking about – "

"So tell me," Sarah said.

Jareth let out a deep breath, closing his eyes before opening them slowly. The air travelled down to her face, slightly ruffling her hair back, caressing her skin.

Slowly, but steadily, Sarah felt the tension leave him, as was the anger in her own body.

Finally calmed down enough, though he did not let go of her arm, Jareth said, "It's simpler than you think. I can't appear before a child in this form unless wished to be, and a child under the age of eighteen cannot wish that for him or herself. Only the human in charge of the child can wish my presence. If you had wished me to appear before you before today, I couldn't have appeared anyways, because you were underage according to the agreement between the fey and the humans, set centuries ago."

Sarah nodded slowly. As she did so, she attempted to step back from him, to free her arm.

He did not let her.

She stopped pulling away, afraid to start a physical war of pulling with him, though her heartbeat was beginning to beat faster. "But that," she whispered, "still doesn't explain _why_."

His eyes were dark; they almost appeared the same colour. "I think you know why." He drew back slightly. "At least, I hope you know why," he said wryly.

She watched him, confusion growing. "What?" she asked, her eyes puzzled, her head giving a small shake involuntarily.

Jareth leaned down closer to her face. "The reason depends entirely on you. I'll be whatever you need me to be," he said. Sarah could hardly breathe from the thickening air between what little space there was left between them. "There are things I cannot be, things I cannot do, but whatever your wishes, I'll try to meet them." He offered her a tiny smile, looking tired, almost appearing as though forced to put on a brave front.

There was a lump in her throat. This… this was not the goblin king she knew. This did not sound like the author of the book that had just fallen out of her hands, again. This was not _Jareth_.

Was this the man she wanted to see? Was the old Jareth the way he was only because her fifteen-year-old self had wished it – because she had wanted a dashing villain?

Was this new Jareth acting this way only because now she had grown up, had matured, and wanted different things? Because she wanted no longer an interesting villain, but an exotic fey king to court her in such a mesmerizing way? _Was_ that what she wanted?

"Who are you?" Sarah asked, trying not to choke on tears that had suddenly risen. She did not even know what she was crying about. "Are you… are you even _real_?"

In one swift motion, Jareth dropped her arm and took several steps backwards. He looked as if he had been struck across the face. "What are you asking?" His face was pale. "Whether or not everything I've confessed to you in that book was _real_? Are you afraid that I'm only saying these things just because that's what you want me to say? Are you afraid I don't care about you at all? Is that what you're afraid of, Sarah?"

"How do I _know_?" A numbing cold began to spread from where his hand had been grabbing her wrist, spreading to her whole body. "Maybe there's a real you – maybe there isn't – but how do I _know_, when I know that the Jareth I see will always be dependent on what I want to see?"

A strange smile flitted across his face. Upon seeing it, Sarah shivered. Though there was cynical amusement creeping into his expression, there was also the strangest feeling… like pain… or longing.

"You can't know," he said, flashing a smile. "Maybe if what you really, really wanted was to know the _real_ me, as you put it - because, of coursewhat I am right now couldn't possibly be real - you could know. But you can't, can you?"

Sarah barely stopped herself from collapsing. She gritted her teeth and held herself upright, refusing to give into the fatigue, both mental and physical, that she was feeling. "I'm not sure I want to know anything," she said. "Is there a you worth knowing?"

As soon as she said them, she wanted to run as far away from the fey standing in front her.

The goblin king merely quirked an eyebrow, but when he spoke, his tone was icy. "Quite greedy, aren't we? Is having your wishes fulfilled not good enough? Seeing your dream come true too boring for you?"

"I want to know the truth," Sarah flared up. "I don't want to give up the truth for fake wishes. Maybe you meant what you said," she said, more quietly, thinking of the book. "I want to believe that you did. But more than believing, I want to know, for sure, that you meant them."

The goblin king cocked his head. The vibrant, mismatched colours were back in his eyes. "So you _do_ want to know," he said.

Sarah opened her mouth, then closed it, her own words echoing in her mind._I'm not sure I want to know anything… More than believing, I want to know._

The silence seemed to stretch out.

"Yes," Sarah finally said. "I do want to know." _I want to know who you are, _she added silently, not knowing herself if it was curiosity, or…

The goblin king smiled crookedly. "Oh dear," he said. "I suppose that means I'll have to stick around long enough for you to figure it out and clear your little mind."

Sarah blinked.

A low chuckle escaped from the goblin king, though there was still a strange look in his eyes. "And so it begins. Best of luck to you, Sarah, in figuring out the… truth." _Of who I am._

He gave an exaggerated bow to her, before turning around and walking to the window. Before he left, he could not resist glancing back.

She was still staring after him, her mouth slightly open, still confused, but a look of understanding beginning to show.

Jareth grinned with genuine amusement this time. Then, seeming to remember something, his lips thinned, and he turned abruptly before disppearing out the window.

Sarah finally collapsed to the floor, shaking. Her mind tried and failed to grasp just what had happened.

But one thing she was quite sure of – another game of riddles and trickery had begun. There wasn't a labyrinth she had to go through this time, but she somehow felt that this maze of words and feelings would prove to be harder than the one she had gone through as a child.

At least the stakes weren't so high this time, she tried to convince herself as she dragged herself to bed. Her baby brother wasn't involved. Nobody had yet to be kidnapped. A huge, revolving machine wasn't going to come after her – as far as she knew. In fact, there seemed to be little that was being risked, except for maybe curiosity, state of mind, and, well, feelings.

So why did she suddenly feel as if everything was at stake?

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Thanks to everyone who reviewed last time! Reviews for this chapter are definitely appreciated! 


	3. Love Kills

**The Chapters of Life**

Chapter Three: Love Kills

_Love kills - drills you through the heart…_

_Love kills - scars you from the start_

_It's just a living past time, ruling your heartline_

_Stay for a lifetime _

_Won't let you go_

'_Cause love won't leave you alone._

Queen, Love Kills.

"_Then forget the baby."_

_If those words had not been said… if the price of achieving the crystal, the dreams, _her_ dreams, had not been specified before she rejected the crystal and chose to save her baby brother… if she had not abandoned the sight of her dreams for her brother… would things have turned out differently?_

_The crystal is no mere thing. It enchants you, draws you in as surely as honey draws bees. Once you catch a sight of what it shows, you cannot look away. You could sit there for hours, days, even weeks, you could even forget to eat and drink. You'll be captured by the lure of your deepest dreams, and you'll be gazing hungrily at the brilliant images it offers, feeling as though you truly were living those dreams, when in reality you are just wasting away slowly. _

_It'll hold you captive. Nothing else can ever offer you joy and happiness any more, and you'll be spending every minute away craving the sights that it offers. _

_It'll show the sight of everything that you love, everything that you wish always could come true. It'll make you happy, serene, calm. It'll allow you to escape from the harsh reality for just a little while… and a little bit while longer…_

_It'll kill you, in the end. _

_And if she had been manipulated right, she would have touched the crystal, and become addicted to it as surely as any human drug addict. And she would never have rivaled me in my own kingdom._

_So why didn't I? Why didn't I lie, cheat, deceive, all the things goblins do daily, to ensure my own safety? Why didn't I force her to take the crystal? Why did I give her a choice?_

_Why did I give her the chance to destroy my world?_

_ J Y S  
_

Sarah woke from her dreams with a start.

For a moment, in the dim morning light that was filtering through the curtains, she had no idea why her eyes were wet with tears, why her insides started fluttering instantly, as if there was danger looming.

Then she glanced down and saw a worn out, olive green leather-bound book on her bed covers, open to the first chapter, and everything crashed down on her.

With shaking hands, Sarah snatched the book up, her eyes involuntarily falling on the first few words.

"_Then forget the baby._"

She sent the book crashing to the floor. She remembered the words well – both from reading that chapter the very day she had begun to read the damned book, and from hearing them one rainy night she had been an hour late getting home…

Her mouth thinning, she roughly got out of bed, nearly falling on her face in her haste to get out. As she steadied herself by leaning on the bedside table, however, she froze.

There was something on the table.

She recoiled, staring at the elegant box and the little note that was on it. For long seconds, all she could do was stare helplessly at it.

"No." A lump was in her throat. She could feel the hysteria building up inside her. She needed to run, run, away from here, to anywhere, just away – but all she could do was stare at the elegant red box, and the note with a scribble on it.

A bird's shriek rang from outside. Sarah jerked her head towards the window. Then, cursing, she backed away a few steps before reaching the door in long steps.

She fled.

_ J Y S_

"Morning, Sarah." Karen greeted her absent-mindedly as she walked into the kitchen, too preoccupied with giving Toby breakfast.

If she had been allowed to pay just a little bit more attention to her step-daughter, Karen might have noticed that something was wrong. A baby, however, is a very demanding creature, and it was all Karen could do to point Sarah towards her seat, where a plate with everyday breakfast was laid out.

"Thanks, Karen." Used to the chaos that was their morning every day, Sarah simply sat and began to shove food into her mouth, ignoring her still fluttering heartbeat.

Karen stole a glance at Sarah. The teenager seemed normal, eating her breakfast and watching television as usual. She sighed. "Sarah –"

She was immediately interrupted by the huge crash of a bowl falling to the floor and shattering.

Sarah, who had been turning to face her step-mother, winced and hurriedly got up. "Oh, _no,_ Toby, this is your _third time_ this week breaking your bowl!"

"Why can't you just eat your breakfast without so much _fuss –_" Karen's face was turning pinker by the minute, and Sarah was honestly afraid she was about to start crying at any point.

"Karen, look, why don't you sit down and get Toby away from here, I'll clean up the mess." Sarah was already moving to get a mop.

Karen's eyes were suspiciously shiny as she grabbed Sarah's arm. "No, Sarah, you can't do that – it's already so unfair for you, today being your eighteenth birthday and not even having a –"

"Waaaaaaah!"

"Toby,_now is not the time –"_

"Oh, god, Karen, he's _bleeding!"_ Sarah shrieked.

In less than a second, Karen had snatched Toby up from the chair and was holding him in her arms, her face paler than Sarah had ever seen her. "Oh, no, no, my poor baby, a shard from the broken bowl must have cut you – Sarah, could you get – oh, no, wait, I can't just ask you to – it's your _birthday_ –"

And then Karen burst into tears, leaving Sarah as the only sane human left in a kitchen with a broken bowl, a crying baby, and a crying mother.

As Sarah led Karen and Toby to sit at the couch so she could go get a band aid for Toby, she levelled a dark look outside the window. If this was _somebody_'s idea of a joke, she was going to catch that barn owl and roast it herself.

_ J Y S_

"Pregnant."

Sarah bolted up. "_No._"

Francine shrugged. "Sounds like the only logical answer, doesn't it? A mother who's had three years of experience wouldn't just lose control and cry like that, would she?"

"Oh, my god." Sarah buried her head into her arms on the desk once more. "You're right."

"Well, at least that explains why you ran into class thirty seconds before the bell half-dressed and with still wet hair," said Katherine, who had been in her first class and had thus noticed the unintentional comedy show Sarah had performed that morning.

"Ha-ha," Sarah muttered, her face still buried.

Katherine and Francine glanced at each other. Then Katherine shook her head. "Look, Sarah, cheer up. It's your eighteenth birthday. We'll be out of school in a couple of months. Besides, think of the gifts you'll start to receive soon!"

Sarah felt her stomach drop. In all the confusion in the morning, she had nearly forgotten…

The bell jarred her out of apprehension. Her heartbeat _still_ beating erratically – she wondered if it would ever get stable once more – she forced herself to her feet and walked to her next class with her friends.

Just get through the day, she silently told herself. Just remember to breathe.

Just survive, somehow.

A hand reached for her, making her jump and very nearly scream. The owner grabbed her arm, looking worried. "Sarah? Are you all right?"

Sarah snapped into focus. "Thomas, hi." She smiled at the boy who had now joined the group and was walking with her. "Yes, I'm fine – just – tired. I didn't get much sleep last night." _Too busy discussing philosophy with a goblin king._

The dark-haired boy made a sympathetic 'mhmmm'. "Well, cheer up – it's your birthday, right? What are you planning on doing?"

"Let's try something new this year," Katherine joined the conversation. "We've always done the same thing over and over again – this year should be more exciting."

Sarah felt the blood drain ever so slightly from her face. "I… Actually, let's just keep to our tradition. This being our year before we all graduate and everything, I just want to have one last chance at reliving the tradition, you know?" She stopped herself.

Normal and average. Was that all she strove for, nowadays? Was that how she had been, all these years, since J… since the Labyrinth? Always finding comfort in the norm, avoiding changes… _hiding_ in the corner of her life, refusing to go out? Because it was the easy thing to do?

"We could do that, too." Seeing her friend's reluctance to her plan, Katherine agreed quickly. She watched Sarah closely as she answered one of Thomas' insipid questions; there was something queer about her today, Katherine knew. Besides from being exhausted and grumpier than usual, the girl was… different.

It was strange, but Katherine almost got the feeling that Sarah was running in a maze, her head always turning, turning to find another turn or twist, her feet running as fast as they could, away from a presence that was haunting her, chasing her. There was a kind of desperation about her, even though all she was doing was walking in the hallway of her school with her friends.

Sarah looked askance at the window in the wall as they passed it, and moved subtly away from it. She knew she wasn't being haunted or chased by a presence – it was already there, breathing the same air as she was, brushing against her skin with every move she made.

She was making the appropriate nods and agreeing sounds to whatever obscure story Thomas was telling beside her, but she was not paying attention to what he was really saying. She had only recently met Thomas, when they were paired up for a project, but already she was used to the boy's constant talking. He was the kind of person who talked for the sake of talking; he didn't need to be listened to all the time, so long as the listener at least gave a pretense of listening, as Sarah had been doing.

So when Thomas suddenly broke off in the middle and hollered something at a boy who was leaning casually against their classroom door, which was not open yet, she jumped yet again.

"You're so jumpy today," Thomas said, frowning at her.

Sarah took the next couple of seconds in reaching their closed classroom door to compose herself. "Really bad morning," she explained as calmly as she could.

"I'll bet," the boy who had already been there spoke suddenly from behind her. "You looked quite harried this morning, in the world history class."

Sarah pivoted on the spot to see who had spoken, and nearly collided into him.

His eyes danced behind the glasses. "Hello, Sarah, and happy birthday," he said, offering a smile and a hand to show that he did not mean to offend her with his previous remark.

"Oh, hi," Sarah said, disconcerted, shaking his hand. He acted like he knew her well, and if he was in her class, she supposed he did know her. She just couldn't remember seeing him in class or anywhere.

Thomas had felt her confusion. Suspecting she needed support, he sidled a bit closer to her. "This is Keith – I think he's in most of your classes, aren't you, Keith?"

The blond boy nodded easily. "That's right. Every class except one, actually, I believe."

"Oh." Sarah gave a sheepish smile.

"Don't feel so stupid, Sarah," Thomas said, laughing a little. "Keith isn't in class most days, in any case, so you probably haven't had the chance to see him that often."

"True," Keith concurred. He grinned at Sarah. "So if you don't remember me, I promise I won't be heartbroken."

Sarah found herself smiling back more easily at him, but there was a nagging feeling at the back of her mind. "But I do feel like I should know you," she said, slowly.

Keith looked at her with interest. "Well, maybe you remember more than you think," he offered.

She opened her mouth, despite not knowing what to say, but then their teacher arrived, so she merely nodded once before sitting down at her usual seat with Katherine and Francine.

As the lecture began, Sarah glanced out the window. A white feather was hanging in the air just outside, tantalizing, slipping just out of view before being lifted by the wind once more, again and again, almost unnaturally.

Sarah turned back to the teacher, her face expressionless. Sometimes, it_wasn't_ easier to cling to normalcy; it was just the safer thing to do.

Taking a pencil out to take notes, Sarah realized that Keith was watching her from across the room, not taking his eyes off her. She suppressed a sigh and purposefully did not look his way. Other times, normal, teenaged, and average life wasn't safe either.

It was just that after rejecting magic for normalcy, there was nothing else to turn to.

* * *

Thanks to those who reviewed! 

Reviews for this chapter are definitely welcome!


	4. My Immortal

**The Chapters of Life**

Chapter Four: My Immortal

_I'm so tired of being here_

_Suppressed by all my childish fears_

_And if you have to leave_

_I wish that you would just leave_

_'Cause your presence still lingers here_

_And it won't leave me alone_

Evanescence, My Immortal

"Are you all right?"

Sarah shielded her eyes from the sun as she turned to her friend. "Katherine?"

The red-haired girl sat on the towel beside her, still watching her closely. "You seem a bit... out of it today."

Sarah shrugged, turning her eyes away from her friend. "Crazy morning. That's all." She surveyed the swimming pool before her, where her other friends were making a great racket trying to drown each other. She noted warily that Keith was part of the group – how the blond boy had come to be in her backyard, she couldn't remember. He had been walking with her friends after school, talking mainly with Thomas, and, well, now here he was.

Katherine kept her own eyes on Sarah. "That's it? Nothing else?"

"Nothing," Sarah said. She kept her voice calm. "Why? Is there something wrong, Kat?"

"I don't know – you just seem like you're about to bolt any time," Katherine confessed.

Sarah didn't know whether to grimace and grin. "I'm fine." She stood up. "Let's go before we end up with three dead bodies in my swimming pool, shall we?"

"Sure." Katherine didn't press.

Her friend was extremely observant, Sarah mused as she joined the fray in the water. Either that or she was being very obvious in showing her deepest emotions. In any case, Katherine was close to knowing what she was really feeling, what she was trying hard to hide.

The only thing her friend had been wrong about was the bolting part. Sarah wasn't about to bolt – she was already running as fast as she could.

The swimming ended only when everyone was too exhausted to do anything more. Afterwards they had barbeque for dinner, sitting under the parasol and chatting about everything and nothing. By evening, a bonfire had been started, as far away from the house as possible in order to pacify Sarah's parents.

Sarah noted grimly that both her father and her step-mother were watching her strangely, almost anxiously, at times, and exchanging worrying glances when they thought she wasn't looking. Francine just might turn out to be right about her prediction of Karen's condition, she thought.

Now they were sitting around the fire, only occasionally throwing something at each other, talking when they wanted to.

"Well, I think everyone's here, now," Sarah said when they had settled down. A few more friends had come from school for the dinner, and there were now eight of them.

"Ah, and you know what that means," Thomas said from across the fire, his eyes eerily gleaming.

"We close off the yard now and begin the blood sacrifice?" Eric, Sarah's childhood neighbour, asked with a shrug.

"As wonderful as that sounds, no," said Thomas. "I was more thinking along the lines of presents."

Sarah laughed, shivering a little in the cold as she tightened the blanket around her, grateful for the warmth it provided. The evening air was chilly, and the trees surrounding her house loomed darkly around them all.

"I'm almost scared to receive them, seeing how excited Thomas is to give his to me," she said.

He waved away her concerns. "Shall we begin, then?" At the murmur of general agreement throughout the circle, he grinned. "All right, then, everybody go get their gifts, and Sarah, you stay here."

"Yes, sir," Sarah said, rolling her eyes. All around, her friends began to get up and run towards the house to get their gifts - all except one.

Sarah cursed inwardly when she saw that a certain boy, sitting not five steps away from her, had not moved. _But of course_, she realized. Keith had just been invited to come rather vaguely today, and would not have had time to prepare a gift for her.

As if reading her thoughts, he turned to her with a wry smile. "I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't realize – well, I didn't have enough time to get you a present, I'm afraid. You will get one, I promise, by tomorrow, though."

"Don't worry about it," said Sarah. Without the warm sanctuary of her friends, sitting alone in the dark outside with a boy she barely knew with only a blanket around her, she was beginning to feel the sleek coldness of gradual terror seize her once more. The talk of gifts did not help, reminding her of something that waited inside her room…

"Thank you for inviting me here today, Sarah." Keith's voice cut through her thoughts. "It was very nice of you to add me to this party."

Sarah shrugged, feeling suddenly awkward under his gaze. "You know what they say – the more the merrier," she said, forcing a smile and looking into the flickering fire. She did not mention that she could not remember actually inviting him along and was still yet unsure how that happened.

Keith must have been thinking of the same thing. "Then again, as I recall, it was Thomas who more or less dragged me here without quite consulting you, so I suppose you didn't really have the chance to reject me right away," he said, giving a light, amused sigh.

She laughed, thinking of her loud, ubiquitous friend. "Oh, I'm sure I would have invited you if I'd known you well enough to know you'd want to come," Sarah said.

"I have to confess that I would have liked to come very much," Keith said. She involuntarily met his eyes, dark behind the glasses he wore, as something in his tone made her look over at him. He smiled, revealing his teeth. "I had to wonder what being at Sarah Williams' house would be like."

Any feeling of safety she had left fleeing, Sarah gripped the blankets, inside where he could not see them. Her pulse quickened.

"I -"

Before she could say, scream, whimper, or perform any of the thousands of other forms of verbally releasing her stress and fear that were passing through her mind, a brightly wrapped box was suddenly thrust under nose.

"Happy birthday!" Thomas said, happily. Sarah twisted around to see that her friends were coming back.

"Thank you, Thomas," she said, accepting the box from him and refusing to look back at Keith, though she had a paranoid feeling that he was still watching her closely. Her heart beat frantically. She felt like running into the woods and hiding in the darkness until she could breathe properly. Instead, she smiled at her friends as they handed gift after gift and thanked each of them.

As she went through the routine of opening one at a time and shrieking in delight before hugging the person who had given her the gift, Sarah could not help but feel relieved. There was nothing out of the ordinary among them: books, gift cards, occasional money, and the birthday cards full of personal jokes and quips. No anonymous gifts of jewelry or old, worn out books. No magic.

In the end, they all ended up lying on their backs on the damp grass and looking up at the night sky until her parents came out of the house.

"Sarah, it's time for your friends to return home, it's getting way too late. Their parents will be worrying," her father said, expressing concern but implying dismissal.

Her friends were old enough to know what he really meant. After wishing Sarah happy birthday again, they all left.

Sarah watched them go with growing trepidation. More than once, she wanted to ask her parents if at least one of them could sleep over, but one look at the drawn face of Karen and she knew that it wouldn't be possible, no matter how quiet she promised to be.

And so, in less than twenty minutes, her friends left her, even Thomas, who was always reluctant to end any fun, and even Katherine and Francine, her best friends who were always last to leave.

Sarah was left alone.

"Had fun?" Her father asked as he helped her clean up the mess the party had left behind.

"Yep," Sarah answered, then hesitated, looking around. "Where's Karen?" Her step-mother had been in the kitchen with them just moments ago.

A look of concern flitted in and out of her father's face. "Went back to bed, perhaps. She's been extremely tired."

"She hasn't been looking well lately," Sarah agreed. She paused to sweep all the garbage left on the table into the garbage can, and to gather her thoughts. When she spoke again, her voice was casual. "There isn't anything wrong with her, is there? I mean, besides the exhaustion caused by Toby?"

She could practically hear the shutters in her father's face go down. "No, there isn't, of course. Why should there be? It's just that taking care of a baby is extremely tiring, as I'm sure you know by now." His voice was just as casual.

Sarah bit her lips, stealing a quick glance at her father. The set jaws told her that she would not be getting anywhere much tonight; her father had always avoided any conversations that might be awkward with Sarah, as if afraid to do anything that might damage their relationship.

Most times, Sarah understood that. Raising a child after divorce, then remarrying wasn't easy. Especially with how dramatic she had been in childhood, he was allowed to be a bit of an avoider. She hated that when she was a child, always having wanted to him to open the closed door of her bedroom and walk in to talk to her rather than leave her alone when she told him to go away.

By now, she'd learned that keeping up the appearance of being a happy family was just as crucial to being a happy family as being actually happy was. She and her father learned to avoid tough issues, let things go, let things lie.

Not tonight, though. Tonight she was tired, tonight she wanted answers she already suspected – tonight, she was scared to death of going up into her room alone, just like a little child being afraid of the dark. She didn't mind confrontations, if they were going to keep her from being alone for just a little bit longer.

So it was with a streak of her old defiance when she said, "Maybe you should take her to a doctor, or something. You never know. It could be… well, anything. Not that I want anything to happen, it's just that I'm worried about her."

She waited for his response.

She never got it, not really.

"Mmm, maybe, sweetheart. That's not a bad idea." Her father straightened, and pretended to do a quick survey of the place. "Well, I think we're pretty much done, so why don't you go to bed now? We can clean up the rest tomorrow morning." Without waiting for an answer, he gave her a quick peck on the forehead. "Good night, and happy birthday."

Then he was gone, and Sarah was really alone.

Her mouth curved in a sardonic smile, though she hardly knew why. Sarah took a deep breath before putting down the garbage can, and walked upstairs. She took a nice long time in washing up. She took even longer changing into her pajamas.

When she finally opened the door to her bed room and walked in, she was half expecting the place to have turned into a burning cauldron, with a particularly sinister goblin king in the middle. Instead, she found the room just as she had left it – messy, with books everywhere, clothes hanging from the most unusual places, the bed unmade… and the box and the note still beside her bed.

After glancing quickly to make sure that the window was closed, Sarah walked slowly to her bed, then sat down. Her eyes were glued to the box and the note. Butterflies swarmed in her stomach, and she briefly considered just lying down to sleep.

She knew that she couldn't. Her curiosity was too much. Finally, with a shaking hand, she reached over and took the note into hand, bringing it closer to her head and squinting in the dark to read it.

_Sarah._

_I couldn't not give you a present on your eighteenth birthday, could I? Especially when you were so gracious as to take such good care of the two I had already given you before._

Sarah's hand involuntarily reached over the bracelet on her wrist. Why _had_she never taken it off for long?

Not wanting to waste any time, anxious to know what the rest of the note said, her eyes were already moving on, her mind ignoring the question.

_I admit I wasn't sure I was going to give you for a long time – not until last night, in fact. But our interesting talk gave me some ideas…_

_So here you are. Open the box, and don't be too mad at me, please. I only hoped to give you something that might help you from now on, in our little game. _

_Good luck with your gift, and best of lucks with finding out who I am. Will I help you? (Will you let me help you?) Or will I end up playing the evil goblin king who only deters you from your goals again?_

_Quite frankly, I don't even know myself. _

_Happy birthday, Sarah. _

_J._

Sarah read the letter only once. She didn't need to read it any more times; the words were ingrained in her mind.

She put down the piece of paper slowly. Then she turned to the box, staring at it for long moments before finally picked it up.

Its cover was leather, a reddish brown colour, with golden swirls that only added to its elegance. A latch held it closed, and Sarah ran her fingers over it many times.

_A little something to help you in "our little game"._

"That's not fair," Sarah whispered, then immediately winced. Whatever had happened to being mature?

Yet… "I never agreed to play any games," she went on. Her hands now held the box still, save the trembling. Her whole body was shaking.

"I don't even know what this 'game' is. What the rules are, what the stakes are, hell, what I'm even supposed to aim for."

There was no answer. Only the kind of completely still silence that only happens at night was present.

Sarah blinked. Had she been expecting something to happen? Had she been_wanting_ him to show up?

An explanation might have been nice, her mind argued, but she rather felt as though demanding an explanation was not what she had in mind.

Her eyes narrowed. Biting her bottom lip, Sarah placed the box roughly down on the table back again.

"I'm not playing any games," she announced. Then, before she could feel the disappointment that no wild-haired fey turned up to argue with her words, she curled up under her bed covers, and attempted to sleep.

She would never be sure if sleep had come to her that night. But dreams had certainly come.

_She was in a room filled with people. Everyone was wearing masks, huge, obnoxious things that only created a feeling of monstrocity rather than hide anything. Everywhere she looked, dancers wearing larger-than-life clothes that could only be described as repulsive were packed into small spaces, bodies pressed against each other. _

_She had seen this room before, she realized. It was vaguely familiar. Yet from where?_

_She walked restlessly, from one mob of dancers to another, trying hard not to get sucked in, looking for something. But for what?_

_She didn't know. But she had the feeling that it was most important._

_Desperate, she walked and walked._

_Then she saw the back of the blond hair, the grand suit that was as frightening as any other attire that others were wearing. As she drew close, not even knowing why, but needing to, he turned._

_A pair of mismatched eyes glanced at her. Her breath caught in her throat. A face that looked so other-wordly, an expression that was cold and sizzling at the same time, eyes that could draw anyone in, the blond hair that was so stylishly untamed…_

_But…_

_That wasn't Jareth, Sarah realized with astonishment and… horror. He was smiling and walking towards her, reaching out a hand in a gesture that was so familiar… but his hair was too short, his face too young, his body built too light… it wasn't Jareth…_

_Was it?_

_And why did it matter? _

_Before she could answer that question, before she could bolt, before she could make any decision, her hand was caught in his._

Outside, his arm leaning on a tree, a blond-haired boy was watching her window from some distance away. His eyes were mismatched, and his face held a smug expression that, had Sarah seen it, she would have recognized instantly.

Finally, he pushed himself off the tree. "Sweet dreams, Sarah," he whispered once in the direction of her house before walking off into the woods.

Seconds later, a white barn owl crashed through her bedroom window.

* * *

Hope you enjoyed this chapter! As you can probably guess from the last line, some Jareth&Sarah interaction is coming up in the next chapter, and hopefully any confusion will be solved - save, of course, some confusion that I'm hoping you're feeling and which I'm leaving until some time later.

Thank you for all who read and reviewed! As always, reviews for this chapter are welcome!


	5. Into The West

**The Chapters of Life**

Chapter Five: Into the West

_Soon you will see_

_All of your fears will pass away_

_Safe in my arms_

_You're only sleeping…_

Annie Lennox, Into the West

_No soon had Sarah's hand touched his than she heard the sound of glass shattering._

_The jarring sound was like a pierce through her body. Feeling as though a part of her was shattering along with the glass, she jerked back, needing to free her arm, to get out of the sickeningly sweet air, to stop suffocating… to… _

_The blond boy gripped her hands harder, lowering his head, looking at Sarah with those enigmatic eyes almost imploringly. "Sarah-"_

_She tried to say no, to tell him to stop just for a minute, that she couldn't, but then she felt the world around them shatter. Everything swirled, her vision becoming foggy, things going topsy turvy, a strong wind blowing from every direction. A gasp escaped from her lips as she felt her body beginning to fall, pulled down past where the floor had just been, and then she was being pulled into every direction, as if gravity was coming from everywhere._

_And all throughout the confusion, through the furniture flying and people screaming and the fog thickening second by second, she felt his hands desperately clinging to her hands, his voice begging her to hang on. _

_But her body was being yanked in all sorts of directions, and she barely even noticed the feel of his hands gripping hers, could barely even see his mouth move frantically. Words were coming to her, a voice calling out to her, but they didn't belong in the realm she was in. They weren't from the familiar stranger whose hand was even now slipping away helplessly, whose voice was now all but silent._

_Sarah…_

_The sight swirled away before her, and she felt herself pulled down, down past the shattered parts of the world she had just been in, and it was all she could do to hang on to the voice, who was speaking her name over and over again…_

"_Sarah!_Sarah!"

_Here I am, she wanted to shout. Help me up, or help me down, whichever way the ground is. Here I am. Help me find the way. _

_Here I am – help me._

"_Sarah."_

_Here I am…_

"_Open your eyes, Sarah."_

And then she wasn't there anymore.

"Sarah. Sarah! Wake _up_."

"I'm awake," Sarah murmured, her eyes closing again as she was shaken frantically.

The shaking stopped. "Open your eyes, then," the owner of the hands that held fast to her own said testily, and Sarah obediently opened them again, feeling dizzy from waking up so abruptly and from being shaken so much.

For a moment, she couldn't focus. Then she saw the face, looking torn and pale, leaning down at her; the mismatched eyes staring at her as if she had just sprouted wings; and the untamed blond hair that was even wilder than usual, sticking in every direction as if a strong wind had blown it in every direction.

The sight of his face, along with his hands that were holding to hers tightly, was so similar to that from the dream, Sarah's eyes widened momentarily and she very nearly yanked away her hands as hard as she could.

As if recognizing the impulse in her, he dropped her hands. "You were dreaming," he said flatly, his expression slowly returning to usual, no longer so panicked.

She had been dreaming?

Sarah blinked, her mind working furiously. Suddenly, it clicked. "Jareth," she breathed, realizing that this was not the phantom from her dreams. It occurred to her a second later that she probably had no reason to prefer this to the phantom, that in fact, before she fell asleep, she had been deathly afraid that he would come to visit her, as he had done just now.

"Good evening, Sarah," the goblin king said. Realizing the position he was in - way too close to the wound up girl - he leaned back until he reached the foot of the bed, giving her space, watching her expressionlessly. Even his hair seemed to have calmed down a bit. "I'm sorry to have interrupted your sleep, especially if you were having a good dream," he said.

Sarah glanced at the clock. "Not exactly 'evening', is it?" she asked. "It's one o'clock in the morning." Then she saw her window, and her jaw dropped. "You…"

Jareth followed her gaze to the shattered window. "Ah, yes, that," he said. "I was in a hurry, and didn't think you were going to open, in any case."

She slowly turned her eyes back to him. She felt the anger stir inside her, but she was still in too much of a shock to do much more than say slowly, "When a door or a window is locked, Jareth, it usually means you're not welcome. It's called privacy." Her breathing was gradually returning, and so was her capacity for anger.

He tilted his head. "I'll fix it on my way out," he offered. "Your parents don't have to know about it or spend a dime to fix it."

"That's – not – the – point," she said through gritted teeth. "It means, keep out. As in, don't come in and wake the owner up abruptly by shaking her as hard as you can."

He looked even more puzzled. "But I had to talk to you," he said. "And there isn't a much better time to talk than at night, unless you're okay with me appearing before you and your friends, and besides, I'm not sure that wouldn't be stretching the rules a bit, seeing as how they hadn't wished for me to be there…"

"_So?_" Sarah hissed.

Jareth merely looked at her. "So there wasn't any other choice for me, was there? I had to talk to you, this was the best time, and the only way through that window was to break it."

"You could have…" Sarah began icily, then stopped. She wondered why she was bothering with this. Why not just scream at him, throw something at him, then tell him to leave? As close as it came to a childish temper tantrum, she felt she had some right to do something like that this time.

Because she wasn't angry enough, she realized. She really wasn't angry enough with the goblin king to throw a hissy fit. Not to mention, she was getting the strangest feeling that, though his expression had not changed throughout their exchange, he was laughing at her, enjoying this immensely.

She sighed, the fight going out of her. "You could have knocked," she said half-heartedly.

The words, said so off-handedly, had a strange effect on the goblin king. His expression darkened slightly, and he glanced out the window, as if checking to see anything was there. "I'm not sure you would have heard me and woken up," he said.

"I didn't think you had any aversion to knocking loud enough for me wake up," Sarah said.

"If I had knocked that hard, the glass would have broken anyways -" The annoying gleam was back.

"Okay, stop." Sarah put her head down into her knees that she had unconsciously drawn close to her body, and took three deep breaths. Then she looked up. "Okay, forget about the window, just fix it before you go, and for god's sake…"_ Don't do it again next time,_ she very nearly said. But that would mean she was expecting him to come back, she realized. It would sound like she _wanted_ him to come back.

Did she?

"…for god's sake, just tell me what you came barging through my window to talk about," Sarah finished feebly.

Amusement glinted in Jareth's eyes as the goblin king leaned forward a little, making the human girl nervous. "Can't you guess?" he said, almost teasingly.

Sarah looked at him flatly. All his words referring to 'the game' and her endless questions about what in the world was going on came to mind. Yes, she could guess. There would be no end to her guesses. There were endless things for them to discuss. "Enlighten me. Please. One in the morning is a hellish time to play the guessing game."

Jareth quirked his head in that unique way of his, looking interested and arrogant at the same time. "You didn't open my present," he said.

There was a respectful pause on Sarah's part. And then:

"I'm sorry?"

Instead of replying to her inane question, Jareth leaned towards the table, causing Sarah to draw back just a little. Throwing her a look, Jareth grabbed the red box that was sitting innocently on the table and sat back down into his original position. "My present," he said slowly, putting it down on the bed between them. "You didn't open it."

There was another pause.

"Your present," Sarah repeated slowly.

"I was hoping you would open it on your actual birthday," Jareth said almost ruefully, looking down at the box fondly. "But well, I suppose I can pretend it isn't belated, since I gave it to you on your birthday, and so technically you did get it on that day. But you didn't open it."

"You broke through my window to get into my room because I didn't open your present."

At that, his head came up, and he gave her a smile. "What _other_ reason were you thinking of that I might invade your bedroom for, Sarah?" he asked pleasantly.

"I – " Feeling her cheeks begin to flame and not even sure why she was blushing, Sarah grabbed the box. "I'll open it now, then," she said ungraciously.

"Please do."

Knowing that the goblin king was laughing at her once again and wondering just when they had become bosom companions who shared jokes late at night, especially considering just the night before they, or at least she, had been ready to rip each other's throat out, Sarah frowned as the reached for the latch. She flipped it open. Then, hesitating only slightly, Sarah opened the lid with the kind of bravado saved for only the goblin king.

And immediately froze.

A low, delighted chuckle broke from Jareth at the sight of her stunned expression. The inside of the box was as elegant and beautiful as the outside, lined with velvet, and there were indents on the bottom of the box especially designed to hold perfectly round, fragile objects.

"No." Sarah's voice shook, and she didn't know why.

Clear and glistening in the moonlight, twelve crystal balls stared at her from the box, looking just like the one Sarah had first seen appear out of nowhere on the goblin king's fingertips that night.

"No?" Jareth enquired. He raised an eyebrow. "You don't like my gift, Sarah?"

Sarah raised her head. Her face was pale, even her lips white in the moonlight. She let the box fall from her hand, though it only fell onto the bed, barely making any noise. "No." Her eyes closed, her lips parted. She was breathing heavily. "I… I can't." Her breath caught in her throat and it was all she could not to choke. "I'm sorry."

She hardly knew why she said the last part; actually, she hardly knew why she was reacting that way. But seeing the crystals had brought instant panic to her system, and all she could see were the crystals from years ago, ones that had kept her in that ballroom – she shivered slightly, remembering her dream – ones that had turned into snakes, ones that called the Cleaners…

And, of course, the one that had promised to show her very own dreams, everything all she ever wanted, that had tempted her from the very beginning to the end, that represented giving up her baby brother for her dreams, abandoning the quest for Jareth.

All the crystals meant were either immediate danger, or continuous temptation. Coming from the goblin king himself, _twelve_ of them were a bit too much for her to handle.

"Sarah." She felt the bed beneath her shift, and knew that he was moving. Her eyes flashed open quickly, only to find his own staring at from only inches away.

Having moved closer to the girl, Jareth slowly reached for one of the crystals in the box, not breaking eye contact, drawing her and hypnotizing her. He still felt her flinch as he lifted one of the crystals. He held her eyes, holding her there, not allowing her to break the stare and look down at what his hands were doing. "Sarah," he called again, softly, keeping her attention. He raised his hand slowly, the crystal for once lying still.

Helpless and trapped, Sarah could do nothing but watch, her body refusing to move, as Jareth turned it slowly for her to see, to be drawn in the mesmerizing glistening and reflections on the clear glass.

"It's a crystal, Sarah, and _nothing more_. No," he felt her draw back, and impulsively reached out with his other hand to calm her. "Listen," he whispered. "Look." He twirled it around his hand once in that supernatural way only he seemed to be able to manage. "It really is just a crystal," Jareth went on, relieved to see that the girl hadn't jumped off the bed in terror yet. "They aren't the same kind that I use. They're just…" he shrugged. "Crystal balls."

"And," he went on with a small smile, "if you turn it this way and look into it…" he did a more complicated juggle with the ball, and was pleased to see that she was as captivated by his actions as she had been back then. He looked into it, looked back up at Sarah. "You don't see anything," he finished, the smile still lingering on his lips.

Her huge eyes watched him. Her tongue wetted her lips, nervously. It took her several tries to speak. "Nothing?"

"Nothing," Jareth solemnly promised. Then he took Sarah's hand in his own, ignoring the small surprised noise she made, and gently placed the crystal in her hand. "I promise."

The crystal felt heavy in her hand. As Jareth let go of her hand, she almost slumped forward at the unexpected weight. With an effort, she brought it up close to look at it; she'd never really looked at one closely before.

Perfectly round, perfectly clear, shimmering even in the dim light, it was beautiful.

Sarah tore her gaze away from the crystal to the one who had given it to her. He gave her a smile that she had never seen before, though if she had seen him with Toby during those thirteen hours, she would have recognized the happiness in his eyes, almost childish in its simplicity and serenity. She found her voice with difficulty. "Thank you."

Jareth remained where he was, close to her. "Happy birthday, Sarah."

She looked down at it again. "What, er, what do I do with it?"

"Anything that you want," he told her. "You could display it, just look into it, keep it for memory's sake, although I would understand it if you didn't particularly want to remember them from two years ago." The last words were dry. "However, I have to confess… I was rather hoping you could learn to, well, manage them." To demonstrate what he meant, he picked another one up from the box, and used both his hands to juggle it, his movement fluid and expertly deceiving.

"You want me to learn to do _that_?"

He cast a sideways look at her. "It's going to take you some time to do 'that', I'm afraid," he said, rolling the ball around his hands in a even more complicated way before finally letting it come to rest in his palm. "But it's no magic, Sarah, merely practice." He glanced down at it once, then put it back. "The illusions help when doing magic," he admitted in a softer tone. "But it needs to be the right kind of crystal, and the right kind of wielder, for the magic to work. The rest is merely for show, and for concentration. When just focused on something like this, it's easier to take one's mind off things, clear the mind, all that stuff. Works for me, anyways. Might help you, too, when your mind is too full, and you just want to relax."

She looked up, and to his relief, a hint of a smile played at her lips. "So this is like therapy, then?"

"You might put it that way," Jareth responded in kind, grinning. He gave a mocking shake of the head. "Your little mind is just too full of thoughts and worries, I'm surprised it hasn't exploded yet. Perhaps this will help."

"Yeah, right," Sarah said. She lifted the hand that had the crystal, and experimentally tried to make it go around her hand, like Jareth had done so effortlessly. It only resulted in the crystal falling within the first second, with her fingers flailing to catch it and failing. "You mean drive me crazy with frustration."

"That would be fun to watch, as well," he agreed.

She picked it up and tried again a couple of times, with him watching with growing amusement. Finally she wrinkled her nose and put it down. "I don't think I'll try any more tonight," she said primly.

He laughed at her. After all the tension they had been through, despite the ease between them that was more than half pretended, he _laughed_. "Whatever suits you, Sarah."

She half-glared at him as she closed the box. Then she took a deep breath, and averted her eyes. "Thank you," she said. "It was – thoughtful of you. Provided this isn't going to jump out and strangle in my sleep anytime soon, of course."

"Such little faith," he answered humorously, but there was a hint of something else. Sarah did not catch it, too busy avoiding his eyes. He wondered if he should leave now. He was strangely reluctant to.

She glanced back at him. "But I still don't understand," she said quietly. "You said, in that letter… you said this would help me with our 'little game'. I still don't know what game you're talking about. I don't understand what's going on, or most of what you said to me last night."

Jareth held back a grimace. He probably _should_ have left quickly, before the questions came. Ah, but it was too late now. He opted for mysterious, as he always did.

"I meant what I wrote," he answered, with a little shrug.

She did not let it go at that. Nor did he expect her to.

"I need clearer answers than that, please," she said. She schooled her voice to be reasonable, calm. She did not expect win against him at his own game if tempers were to flare again.

He shook his head slightly as he began to get off the bed, intending to at least get a little bit farther away from her, regretful that the companionable air they had shared, probably their first, was rapidly dissolving. "I'm sorry, Sarah," he said, and in many ways he truly was. "I'm sorry. I wish I could give you clearer answers, but – not here, not now. I'm sorry."

He began to swing his legs off the bed, then froze. A small hand was on his upper arm, stopping him.

"Please," she whispered. Her words were unsteady, shaky. "Don't- don't leave, not yet, _please_. I can't… I can't go through another minute of it, not knowing what the hell is going on in my own life. Tell me what's going on. Tell me what had happened before. Tell me…" she trailed off. "I have to know," she whispered the last words.

Sarah Williams _never_ begs. She might throw temper tantrums, yell, scream, cry, but she never begs. If she wants to know something, she asks nicely, or makes the person tell you. But she never begs. And she's never before approached the goblin king first.

She's never before made physical contact voluntarily before. Jareth gave a small groan, though inside it was much louder. "I was hoping we wouldn't have this conversation yet." He closed his eyes.

Yet how could he leave, with her hand on his arm, her eyes and her voice asking him to stay?

"I have to know," Sarah repeated. She had been ignorant for the past two years of her life, never knowing for sure, always suspecting, always denying, never _knowing_. Now the key to the answers was sitting in front of her. She didn't want to live like that any more.

"It's too early for you to know –"

"I have to know," Sarah said, for the third time.

Jareth was defeated. There had been no chance of his winning from the beginning, he knew, not when she asked like that, looking like that, not when it was her. He sank back down.

"What would you like to know?"

* * *

Whew. That was the longest chapter yet. 

I swear, I had every intention of finishing their conversation in this chapter, to finally address some of the questions... but then Sarah and Jareth had to go ahead and hold such a long conversation.

Well, I hope you've enjoyed this chapter! There's more to come, I promise.

Thank you to all of those who read, and especially to those who took the time to review - I really appreciate them. As always, reviews for this chapter are welcome!


	6. Why

**The Chapters of Life**

Chapter Six: Why

_Why, do you always do this to me?_

_Why, couldn't you just see through me?_

_How come, you act like this, _

_Like you just don't care at all -_

_Do you expect me to believe I was the only one to fall?_

_I can feel you near me, even though you're far away…_

Avril Lavigne, Why.

The question was dizzy in its simplicity, astonishing in its complexity.

"_What would you like to know?"_

Sarah did not answer for a moment, her mind overflowing with all the questions she wanted to ask, all the answers she wanted to hear, all the truth she needed to know.

Then again, there ever really was only one question she truly needed to ask, one answer that would solve it all, one truth she needed to know.

"Tell me why," she said softly.

For once, he did not pretend to have misunderstood her. He sighed, and retreated back a little from the girl, leaving a bigger space between them, looking more tired than he had just seconds ago. He ran his hands through his hair.

"I can try," he finally said. _He never had a choice_. "I'll try my best to tell you."

Two years was enough time to have learned at least a little bit of patience. Instead of probing, Sarah waited, patiently.

"You already know why I couldn't come until now." His words were halting. "The rules that govern interactions between the fey and the humans can be restricting. As for why I came?" Jareth desperately wished he could look away from those eyes. This, he felt, would be so much easier if only he could be facing something else, pacing, or having a crystal ball in his hand to distract him. But he couldn't move himself any farther away from the girl, and rather suspected that she would greatly dislike the sight of a _magical_ crystal in his hands.

He sighed again. There was no easy way of doing this, and the way she was looking at him wasn't helping. "Can't you really figure out why, Sarah?" Or are you going to make me say it?

She had certainly speculated. But she didn't know the truth, couldn't_know_ for sure. "Tell me," she said, softly.

His fingers were positively ready to explode from the itch to wrap themselves around a crystal. "I…" A bead of sweat rolled down his temple, but he did not dare lift a finger to wipe it away, lest she see it and notice that his hand was shaking, that he was anything but completely composed. "I…"

Which way to take? Which path would be easier, safer – the easy truth, or the true, inner reason residing deep inside his heart? Which way would he take? Which choice _could_ he make?

_He never had a choice._

"I wanted to get to know you, Sarah Williams. More than that, I couldn't stay away from you for a moment. _More_ than that, Sarah, I…" A shaky breath. "I need you."

He raised his eyes and met hers. She was completely still, only the slight paling of her face, the lips parted in astonishment, and the wide eyes telling him what he needed to know.

In one fluid motion, Jareth got up from the bed and then was kneeling down on the floor beside the bed, quite close to her, in a posture ironically close to a proposing mortal. "Don't shut me out of your life, not now, not again," he said, his head shaking in almost desperation. "I can wait. We can do whatever things that humans do when they're…_courting_. We can take things slowly. You can," he gulped, hating the next words he was about to say, but needing to force them out anyways, "You can see other humans if you wanted… Just…

"All I'm asking for is a chance, Sarah. A chance like any mortal around you would get. A chance to be with you."

Sarah had frozen. All through Jareth's confession and plea, her eyes had not left him, and she was frozen in place, unable to do anything other than watch him almost helplessly. At those words, she tried to stir herself, to remind herself that probably an answer was needed.

Her eyes glistened in the moonlight, tears threatening to fall. She hadn't been ready, not for this, then…

She buried her face. Took a couple of unsteady breaths. Looked up, with her cheeks wet. "How?" she asked, her voice quiet, fragile.

Again, he did not need any clarification. Slowly, painfully slowly, he lifted himself up from the floor, leaning on the bed, not standing up fully, not wanting to appear intimidating to the girl. He sat, much closer to her than he had been, their bodies inches away.

"Let me in your life," he said slowly, softly. Hesitating, he raised his hand, leaning towards her, his hand tentatively cupping her face, his thumb caressing her cheek. "Let me come to you, talk to you, be with you…"

_I ask for so little…_

Sarah sat, transfixed, by his words, by the touch of his hand upon her face, by the memories that suddenly flooded her mind, mixing with the present.

He leaned closer. "Let me know what I should do to court you, Sarah," he whispered.

The remnants of his breath, his sigh, reached Sarah, a cool sensation upon her forehead. Almost without thinking, she turned her head, leaning into his hand and closing her eyes, a single tear escaping from her long eyelashes.

His hand tightened, then he was pulling her towards him. Only a barely audible, startled gasp escaped from her lips before she was in his arms, burying her face on his shoulder, with his arms tight around her, holding her firmly to him.

He leaned his face into her hair, breathing in the scent, feeling her tremble in his arms. "Let me love you," he whispered against her skin.

_Just fear me, love me, do as I say…_

Caught between the present and the memories that had haunted her for two years, Sarah could only bury her face all the harder, leaning into him all the harder, falling all the harder.

"And I'll be yours," he promised.

_And I will be your slave._

She felt the tears come. She let them. He held her, feeling her head on his shoulder, his own head leaning against hers, his eyes closed.

They sat like that for minutes, the human girl and the goblin king.

Finally, when the tears had abated, when she felt sure she could speak, Sarah hesitantly leaned back.

He let her go, every part of his body reluctant to, his mind knowing he had to. He couldn't push the girl, couldn't force her.

"Jareth." His name was tentative in her mouth.

He looked at her.

She closed her eyes. Fresh tears sprang, but this time she refused to let them come, wiping them away. "I…" she began, then shook her head. "I don't really know _how_. I – don't know how it's supposed to go, I don't know what I should answer…" She raised her eyes, and steeled herself. "I don't know how I feel."

He smiled for her, though he knew the words were, in a way, a rejection to his plea. "Then give me the chance to help you find out," the goblin king said. "Give me the chance to change your mind, willingly."

For rejection they may have been, but only temporary, and so very uncertain.

She opened her mouth, then closed it, something suddenly occurring to her. She spoke again, "I have just one question left."

Jareth stilled. He had a feeling that he knew what this question was, and cursed inside. "Yes?"

She looked into his mismatched eyes, and took a breath. "Why did you talk about games?" she asked softly. "You said that another game had begun, between us. Why?"

Again, Jareth wished that he had a crystal in his hands to calm himself. "I told you, Sarah," he said carefully. "There are many rules restricting interaction between the fey and the humans. I had no hand in setting these rules – they were set even before my time. They're even more restricting when it comes to personal relationships." His mouth twisted in a sardonic smile. "Too many disasters, I suppose, from relationships gone wrong in the past."

Sarah watched him closely. "What are they?"

Jareth ran his hand through his hair. She was going to kill him for this, he was sure, and braced himself. "I… can't tell you most of them, at least not exactly. There's a goddamn rule about the mortals not knowing what the rules themselves are about." He shook his head. "It's the fey's way of letting the mortals choose freely based only on their feelings, I'm told." His tone informed her that he did not believe it at all. "I'm not sure I'm not already stretching the rules a bit, telling you that there _are_ rules."

Her expression did not tell him whether she was angry or agitated, and he was becoming uncomfortable. "What _can_ you tell me?" she asked quietly.

Unable to help himself, Jareth finally gave in to his urge and took out a crystal from the box. He absent-mindedly juggled it, keeping it as simple as possible in order not to distract Sarah too much, immediately feeling his nerves calm at the familiar feel of the sphere in his hands. "I can tell you that time is running out," he said, looking up at her and finding that she was not in the least bit distracted, not looking at the crystal dancing in his hands, but rather at him. "There's a damned age limit, just like there was another one that prevented me from coming to you physically earlier. This one, however, I'm told, is because a human's body may not be able to take the strain if too old."

He let out a tight sigh. "I don't know. All I do know, and all I can tell you, is that at a certain time, that is, not before too much time has passed, under certain circumstances, you need to choose to be with me. I need to present to you the choice formally, and there's a lot of rubbish about you needing to have something of mine to show that we're together." He shook his head. "I don't want you to be worried too much about that yet. All that can be arranged fairly quickly. All I want you to do, right now, is seeing if we _can_ do this."

"Do…"

He put down the crystal. "If we _can_ be together," he said, quietly. "If we can… love each other. More than anything," his lips twitched a little, "If we can trust each other. You didn't sound so sure when we met last night whether you could even be sure I existed."

She looked down, flustered. "I don't think I'm still sure whether I can really know you," she confessed slowly.

"That's all right." She looked up. He was smiling, an easy grin, his composure back. "We've got time," he said. "Not too much time, perhaps, but we've got time, time enough to play this game of courting through. You can make your decisions later."

She exhaled, slowly. Then she offered him a small, uncertain smile as well. "Thank you," she said softly.

He flashed another smile before getting up. "Until later, then, Sarah Williams. You need to sleep."

"Coming from the fey who woke me up at 1 am," Sarah observed wryly as she glanced at the clock. It was half past three. "Crap." She closed her eyes and, suddenly exhausted, leaned back on the bed frame.

Jareth carelessly put the crystal back in place before putting the box on the floor. "I'll be expecting you to be marginally better by tomorrow night," he teased.

"Yeah. Right." Sarah's heart skipped a beat even as she firmly told it to be calm. _Tomorrow night_. He was coming back, then.

Jareth chuckled slightly as he bent closer to her. "Good night, then. Sweet dreams." His eyes glanced out the window as he said the last words.

Sarah shook her head, and thumped her head onto the pillow. She didn't really want to fall asleep with him there, and she didn't want to dream again, but sleep was threatening to overcome her. "I never would have guessed it's so complicated. All the stories of fey lovers in our world sounded simpler than that."

He glanced down at the human girl who was rapidly falling asleep with hooded eyes. "That's because they didn't go through this – the stories are never about those who wanted this, wanted what I want," he said quietly.

She opened one eye, tried to force herself to wake up at least for a moment, and failed. "And what is it that you want?" she murmured.

He leaned down until he could whisper into her ears. "I want to be with you," he said, barely audible, his soft voice pushing her even more towards sleep. "I want an eternity with you."

Straightening, he saw that she was asleep. After gazing at her for a few simple moments, Jareth turned around and walked to the window. His eyebrows furrowed as he concentrated for a moment, and the broken shards of glass flew back into the place before melting into each other, forming a window once more. He opened it, looked back at Sarah once, then went through it.

A white barn owl flew out from the house into the night sky. Another morning was coming.

* * *

I apologize for the wait! 

As always, thank you for reading, and reviews are welcome!


	7. The Number of the Beast

**The Chapters of Life**

Chapter Seven: The Number of the Beast

_I lived alone – my mind was blank_

_I needed time to think to get the memories from my mind_

_What did I see? Could I believe? _

_That what I saw that night _

_was real and not just fantasy…_

Iron Maiden, The Number of the Beast.

The sun was dazzling, blinding.

Jareth stood on a hill, in front of a labyrinth.

It wasn't his labyrinth; it was not even a true labyrinth in mortal terms. Rather than walls that lined a near-impossible maze like his own, this labyrinth was physically no more than a simple garden, a series of paths lined by hedges that led to the grand Northern Gate of _Lwenhyn_, a city in the kingdom of white shadows, ruled by his only friend among the fey kings, Harel.

But things are not always what they appear to be, and the magic ran deeper than that. Jareth knew that there was magic entwined into the very air, the very soil, into the hedges, the outer walls of the city, reaching miles under and above ground. It twisted and turned, an effective snare, one that would snatch anything evil towards the city and kingdom that it protected and would never let go. One had to be very careful, indeed, when entering such grounds – even to the fey eye, it seemed nothing more, but the magic that formed the invisible labyrinth would overcome any.

He had been here before. Jareth strolled down the hill, stopped, then lifted his eyes to where he could see the castle in the middle of the city.

"Harel," he said. "If you don't appear, or say anything, I'm going to assume that means I have your permission to enter."

There was a beat of silence.

The goblin king waited another second, displaying a rare case of patience, then shrugged and began walking towards the gate.

Nothing happened.

Jareth walked all the way to the metal gates, where he saw a man appearing to be in his late forties with black hair and immaculate leather vest over black clothing leaning casually against the dirtied metal.

"Sometimes I wonder if you really don't care what happens to your own self," the man said. "If the labyrinth had snatched, not even the king himself can get you out of its dark heart, where you'd be trapped, bound tightly by magic that no one controls but simply exists and acts on its own."

"Sometimes I wonder the same thing as well," the goblin king retorted. "Anyways, I'm flattered –" he sounded anything but – "that you feel the labyrinth would feel important enough to imprison me in the heart, and not one of its oubliettes."

The dark-haired man sighed. "You don't feel threatened because you cannot see nor feel the labyrinth, unlike yours – which is physical and appears oh so intimidating, because of the nature of the goblin kingdom and because it needs to threaten humans, who have no knowledge of magic, but –"

"I know, Harel, I know," Jareth said tightly. "Let's put it this way: I knew I wouldn't be harmed because I did not mean any harm to the kingdom, to the city, or to you."

The older fey king sighed. "Suit yourself, then. Come in, come in." He pushed himself off the gates that led to the city, opened the gates, and disappeared behind them. Jareth caught the doors before they could close, and followed, walking directly into a chamber in the castle of King Harel, which stood miles away from the outer wall.

"Sit then," Harel said, finding a chair for himself and lounging in it. "I don't suppose you came here just to chat and bother an aging fey king while he's minding his own business."

Jareth remained standing. "Are you busy, then?" he asked.

Harel made a vague motion of waving something away. "Some problems with the younger generation," he said darkly. "Here's my advice to you, Jareth, and listen closely and take it to heart, mind you. Never have more than two sons. Just one, and he's liable to be either an insipid idiot or an ambitious toad who'll attempt to usurp your throne every ten seconds. More than two, and they'll feud over the throne, kill each other, and the insipid youngest one who ran away from his ambitious brothers will be the only one alive, and he'll end up being king." He stretched.

"I'll keep that in mind," the goblin king said.

"Ah, but then," Harel went on, suddenly animated, "you can never have too many daughters. Wonderful beings, they are. All of mine are as catty as any other young fey ladies, half of them dying to leave me as quickly as possible and find powerful husbands who'll be at their beck and call, the other half swearing undying devotion to their old father and to whichever brother would follow their dear father. Charming, all of them… although I can never really tell them apart, and frankly right now I can't even remember how many I have."

Of all the sardonic descriptions of his children, Jareth knew, the last part was the truest. The king of the white shadows had more than a dozen daughters and sons, only a few from the queen, all others from various mistresses he had taken, at least half of whom were mortal.

Harel suddenly fixed his eyes on the goblin king. "_Do_ you have any children, Jareth?"

"No, I'm afraid not," Jareth said, and, noticing the way Harel's eyes lit up, suppressed a sigh and dragged a chair towards him. This was going to take a long time.

"_Really_, now… A queen?" the older king asked hopefully.

His mouth in a thin line, Jareth shook his head.

"Ah." Harel watched the other fey with avid interest. "I do have one beauty in my household," he began. "The youngest from my own queen, so you won't have to worry about the breeding…"

"Harel," Jareth cut in with half-clenched teeth. "You forget who my own mother was."

"A wonderful woman, no doubt," Harel said, without missing a beat. "But really, Jareth. You need a queen. Soon your generation will be closed, a new generation will begin, and you know you can only take wives from the same generation that you yourself belong to. There are only so many girls in your generation, you know."

Jareth resisted the urge to rub his temples. Harel was ever looking to expand his influence, playing the game of arranged marriages relentlessly.

"I'm not here to discuss my mother," Jareth said, feeling the tightening of his jaw as he always did when talking of his mother. "Or a marriage. I'm here to talk about the labyrinth."

"Ah." An enlightened look entered Harel's face. "Did you want any advice on renewing your labyrinth, then?"

Jareth took a deep breath. "No. I was actually hoping to discuss a particular Game of a labyrinth with you, if you weren't too busy."

"My sons can tear themselves apart for a couple of hours without my help," Harel said. "Which Game?"

Jareth did rub his temples, then, wondering how he was going to open this subject. "The one between a mortal and a fey," he said quietly.

There were plenty of Games between mortals and fey – the one Sarah and he had played two years ago was one of them, the goblin king absent-mindedly mused – but Harel understood which one immediately, and gave him a sharp look. "The courting one?" he asked in disbelief.

The younger fey leaned back. "Yes," he said.

Harel was thoughtful for a moment. "What would you like to discuss about it?" he asked, frowning slightly.

"Tell me more about it – tell me how it exactly goes," Jareth said.

"How should I know?" Harel sounded astonished. "I've never played it, myself. It wouldn't at all have been fair for the poor thing to leave her mortal life behind only to face my dear wife the queen. Are you courting a human, then?" His tone was curious.

Jareth hesitated only for a split second. "I am," he said slowly.

"Don't." Harel's answer was immediate and short. "If you really care about the girl, get a splendid ring, marry her according to the rituals of whatever religion she follows, and make the rest of her life a happily ever after of a fairy tale. What's fifty years? You can live that long aboveground without neglecting too much in your kingdom. Show her the magic of everyday life, and let her live a happy, sheltered life. I can assure you that it is a much happier fate than being turned into a fey and trying to find her footing in a world she's never known for the next thousand years, all the while being pecked at from every side for having been the lover of a fey king… if she survives the Game and being turned into fey in the first place."

"I've had to find my own footing, and I did it," Jareth said. "Besides, I do hope for more than such a life for her."

"Oh. I see." Harel said evenly. He gave him a flat gaze. "She's going to be your queen, is she?"

"That depends," Jareth said carefully.

Harel sat back, thoughtful. "That Game is a dangerous one," he said slowly. "It was established, long ago, even for us, when our realm was still closely connected to the one above. And you might see that even now, our exploits from that time are being talked about – the kidnappings, the magical seductions where the seduced have no say, the trickery, the meddling. The Game isn't a fair one, especially for the mortal who is unknowingly dragged into it. Whoever your human may be, she just may be better off staying as your mortal lover."

A ghost of a smile played at Jareth's lips. He was not even aware of the fact. "She can take on the Game, I'm more than certain."

Harel held up both hands. "Your human, your Game, your labyrinth, your heart," he said. "So what would you like to know? Ask away, and I'll answer to the best of my abilities."

No longer able to sit still, Jareth stood up, and began to pace. "Tell me the rules, from the start," he said.

Harold watched him carefully as he began to recite the rules. "One, the human cannot be more than six months away from his or her eighteenth birthday, before or after."

"Godsdamn it, that's one nonsensical rule," muttered Jareth.

"It can't be helped," Harold said steadily. "Too many of the fey forced their mortal lovers to face the game of becoming immortal when they were either too young or too old, and too many of them perished that way. There had to be a rule."

"All right, all right. That's still one annoying time frame. Go on." Jareth continued to pace.

The older fey went on. "Two, the human must not be aware that choosing to follow his or her fey lover results in immortality."

Jareth felt his mouth twist in a sardonic smile. This, he knew, was just the selfish fey's way of ensuring that a mortal wasn't pretending to be in love with one of the fey just to become immortal. He himself rather felt that any fey idiot who fell to the charms of a human who only wanted immortality might as well do a service to the fey realm by adding an intelligent member to society instead of wailing about how his love was not returned.

"Three, the human must be fey-marked by his or her fey lover, either by a physical brand, or a gift."

The goblin king continued to pace. No problem there.

"After the fey-mark, the Game will officially begin. Another human will present him or herself to the human, and eventually the human must choose between that another and the fey, before the date six months after the eighteenth birthday has passed."

Jareth screeched to a stop. That was new. "_What_?"

Harel went on, intending to finish what he had started. "If the choice is for the human, the Game is ended permanently. If the choice is for the fey, both the fey-marked human and the fey must do a run through the labyrinth of the kingdom that the fey belongs to. This final stage of the Game will test the bond between the two, and should the bond prove too weak, the labyrinth will do its duty."

Jareth quirked an eyebrow. He knew what that meant. "The human's going to die if she fails the run."

The older fey looked back at him, a strange expression on his face. "The fey too," he said.

The goblin king took a breath, let it out. "All right," he said. He would deal with that later. For now, he wanted to focus on an earlier rule. "What was that part about choices and another human presenting himself and whatnot?"

"Never understood that part, myself," Harel said pensively. "How does the labyrinth affect what's going on above? Surely the magic isn't strong enough… Ah, but no matter. It happens. Yes, another human will be attracted to the side of your human soon after she's fey-marked." Harel noticed the other fey's face. "Did you already mark her?"

After softly muttering a curse, Jareth straightened. "Yes, I did. So does that mean…"

"Fey-mark? Or fey-mark with the intention of a Game?"

"With intention," Jareth answered tonelessly. "So that means?"

Harel stared. "That means that a human rival of yours is already beside your human, of course. Do you not watch her?"

"I do, but she's eighteen, for the labyrinth's sake. Half of the boys around her are going to be itching to court her, or ask her out, whatever it is they say," Jareth said testily, turning away from the staring fey king.

Suddenly, he froze. Slowly, ever so slowly, he turned back. "Harel," he said in a calm voice. "It isn't possible for another fey to be that rival, by any chance, is it?"

"As far as I recall, it isn't. The whole purpose of the human rival is to represent the mortal choice, I believe. He represents the mortal life; you present the fey life; she chooses. Straightforward enough."

"Can there be more than one?" Jareth asked dubioiusly.

Harel suddenly cracked a grin. "I suppose, nowadays, the mortal choice could be represented by the idea of being with many mortal boys…" He cocked his head, curious. "What are you exactly thinking of?"

"Nothing in particular," the goblin king said. He switched subjects. "So how does she exactly make the choice? And what Game do we have to play in the labyrinth, the one that… what was it? _Tests the bond between the two_." His tone conveyed skepticism.

Harel threw up his hands. "I don't know. I can tell you the magical aspects of the Game, but I have no idea what actually happens. I suppose you'll find out easily enough. Though be warned, Jareth." The look he wore was now completely serious. "That run through the labyrinth… I've heard that it can be the darkest of all Games the labyrinth can play, even darker than the snatching of intruders into the heart or one of the oubliettes. The labyrinths weren't placed to protect our kingdoms for nothing. Their very nature is to keep evil trapped within it, and the evil has been only increasing throughout the millenniums… By now, they're saturated with evil, steeped in darkness. Not even we can say if one isn't innately evil, and by playing this Game, you put yourself at its mercy."

"I'll take my chances," Jareth said coolly, suppressing a shiver at the memory that passed his mind just at that moment, a memory from a long, long time ago…

Harel seemed to be feeling a similar apprehension. They shared a glance, then looked away. Jareth stood up. "Thank you for your help," he said.

"Tell me how it goes." Harel rubbed his tired eyes. "Good-bye, goblin king."

Jareth left. Still nagging on his mind was the memory, the one that he knew was in Harel's mind as well.

_All fey kings went through the labyrinth, at least once, when each became king. It was part of the coronation, part of accepting the crown. It was also something that not even the bravest of them wanted to experience ever again. History had noted that many princes did not survive it. Yet the run, the Game, wasn't dangerous by itself; no sharp, huge drills chased the full-grown fey prince down the corridors, no trap doors opened to a dark narrow tunnel leading straight to oubliettes, no stone bridges fell apart the moment someone stepped onto it. _

_The Game was simple. It required its runner to win. If not, the runner would die. Simple. Plain. _

Jareth fought away the memories of just why it was so damned near impossible to win. Why he had nearly lost. It wasn't something he wanted to go through again, even in just memory. He fought away the doubts that suddenly filled him. _Another run through the labyrinth – hours between its stark walls again, walls that closed in on you without physically doing so… _Again?

An ironic smile graced his lips. The choice of whether to go through it or not wasn't his, he realized. That depended entirely on Sarah, the girl he had no power over.

* * *

Those who've read Sara Douglass' "Troy Game" may recognize the idea of the labyrinths as cities' means of protection against evil. But the similarities between labyrinths from the "Troy Game" and those from this story end there, I promise. 

Thank you to all those who reviewed the last chapter and to those who read this chapter! As always, reviews are welcome!


	8. You're My Best Friend

**The Chapters of Life**

Chapter Eight: You're My Best Friend

_Whatever this world can give to me_

_It's you, you're all I see_

_You make me live now honey_

_You make me live_

Queen, You're My Best Friend

"I'm late, I'm late, I'm late!!"

Karen gave a reproving look to the whirlwind sweeping through the kitchen that was her step-daughter, but the whirlwind paid no attention. "Crap, crap! It's already quarter to eight!" Without bothering to eat the breakfast that Karen had laid out, Sarah grabbed her bag on the counter and shot out of the kitchen.

Karen was a few steps behind. "Sarah, your breakfast – "

"I'll grab something from the cafeteria after first period!" Sarah called back, wrenching open the door. "Going to park after school, be back before dinner!"

The door slammed shut.

For a moment, Karen looked relieved. Having no opportunity to talk was a great excuse for not talking about touchy subjects.

Outside, running towards the bus stop where a bus was already pulling in, a similar thought was on Sarah's face. But her expression was one of annoyance, not relief.

_J Y S_

It was a gorgeous day. The sun was beaming from above, shining down upon the Earth. The grass was green, inviting the students of the local high school to lie down and stare up at the impeccable blue sky.

"Damn that sun. It's way, way too bright." Sarah deposited her bag on the table with a thump, then sat beside it, her feet on the bench.

"Most people are happy to see the sun," Katherine observed mildly.

Sarah ignored her friend as she began to unwrap her burger. "It's hurting my eyes."

"Oh, come on. Why are you in such a bad mood?" Francine joined Sarah on the table, sitting down on her other side. "You've been late for two days straight now, and despite the fact that you should still be happy and hyper about your birthday yesterday, you're all so grumpy. What's going on?"

Sarah took a big bite of her burger before she answered grumpily, "Nothing."

"Well, it doesn't look as though you've been getting much sleep," Katherine noted wryly.

"That, really, is– "

"SARAH!"

All three girls winced at the booming call that could be heard all too clearly from the other side of the courtyard of the school. Their serene peace of lunchtime was over, now.

"You need to do something about that kid," Francine said with a groan, though her voice held laughter, not turning back to see just who was making all the ruckus running towards them. She knew who it was all too clearly. "His voice is way, way too loud."

"I don't think I can do anything about it," Sarah said with a chortle. She also did not look back. She could hear him coming as well.

Katherine, on the other hand, was facing them, and thus could see clearly just who was coming. "Well, well…look who's beside him," she said with a twitch of her lips.

"Who?" Sarah asked.

Before her question could be answered, the girl sitting beside her shrieked as she was attacked from behind. Something heavy had slammed into Francine, and she was lurched off the table, screaming. Sarah nearly choked from laughter to see the two sprawled on the grass; her friend screeched, "Thomas, get _off!_" and pushed the grinning boy off.

Laughing, Thomas pushed himself up before offering the girl a hand. She pointedly ignored it as she pushed herself off the ground. "Do you always have to make such an entrance?" she griped, though a smile was beginning to tug on her lips. "Your screaming Sarah's name was plenty obnoxious, but no, you had to go ahead and do _that_!"

By now, both Katherine and Sarah were helplessly laughing. Thomas stuck his tongue out at Francine; she threw the crumpled wrapping that had held her lunch at his head, and scored a marvellous hit.

"Does he do that often?" a wry voice asked from Sarah's side.

Startled, Sarah gave a sideways glance to the boy who was sliding into the seat that Francine had vacated. Messy blonde hair came into view, and then the boy in question was tilting his head questioningly towards her.

"Um, yes. Very often, I'm afraid," Sarah said. Her voice did not give off any signs of her suddenly racing heart. "Every time, in fact."

Keith shook his head in amusement as he leaned back a little. He was sitting on the edge of the table, his long legs stretched out past the bench, his hands behind him. "He tends to act that way more around girls, I think," he observed with a snicker.

"I imagine it'd feel quite strange for him to attack and wrestle another guy," Sarah said, unable to help a grin herself.

"That, too." He agreed.

Then a hearty smack and a howling of "Ow!" were heard, and Sarah's attention was wrenched to the pair before her eyes.

"That hurt!"

"You deserved it," Francine retorted, laughing as she stepped back from Thomas. "You made me lose my seat!"

Keith sat up a little. "Shall I give it back?" he inquired.

Before Francine could answer, Thomas grabbed the purse that she was holding, yanking it out of her hand roughly. She spun to face him with a yelp.

"Revenge!" teased Thomas as he began to run away.

"Come here!"

A chaos of laughter and a game of chase ensued, lasting until the bell that signaled the end of lunch. The group began to make its way back to school, still shoving and laughing at each other. And Keith fell in step beside Sarah in such a natural way that Sarah found herself talking to him as if he were any other normal human boy.

And she could not explain, not even to herself, just why she was surprised by that – since she could not explain just why she felt Keith was not any other normal human boy.

"World History next," Sarah observed with a slight groan as she entered through the door that Thomas held open for everyone.

Thomas glanced at her. "The class with the great Keith himself," he said with a mocking smile.

Keith, who was walking in right behind Sarah, smacked him on the head; Sarah heard the familiar sound of Thomas getting hit for his comments behind her and slightly shook her head in amusement.

Thomas, of course, was not one to get discouraged. "I'm perfectly serious," he pouted a little as he caught up to the pair, walking beside Sarah and Keith. "The fact that this kid came to school two days in a row is just amazing. He comes barely once a week."

"I think I'm looking at one of the reasons why I want to avoid this school," the boy in question said dryly, looking pointedly at Thomas.

"Ah, but are you sure walking beside us isn't one of the reasons that you _are_ here?" Thomas raised an eyebrow suggestively.

Sarah threw a rather disgusted look, half-joking, at him before speeding up to join Katherine and Francine.

Waving good-bye to her girl friends, who were off to Drafting, Sarah was glad to be entering the class and sitting down at her usual place, but her arm was caught just as she was entering the classroom. She twisted around to find Thomas, all traces of joking gone, looking at her quite seriously.

"Sarah, hey, come on," he said. "I was joking. I know you don't want to be involved in anything, especially since it's the end of high school and everything. I don't know why you're just so against the whole thing, but I do know that you are." A frown settled on his forehead. "You're not really mad at me, are you?"

"I'm not," Sarah said, feeling a little awkward and more than a bit startled. She shook her head. "As for why – I'm not sure what to tell you, because I don't know. I think… I think I just don't want things to change, or be different."

Thomas opened his mouth to say something, but then suddenly closed it. He released her. "Well, I'm still your friend, right?" he grinned at her, his boisterous self coming back, and began to walk backwards a couple of steps towards his own class.

"I sometimes wonder why," Sarah rolled her eyes. Then she saw that Keith had caught up and was talking briefly to Thomas. They nodded at each other as Keith began to walk towards her. Her stomach gave an unfamiliar clench, and she backed up a few steps, intending to go in before Keith did.

Before she could move, however, Thomas suddenly turned and yelled in his characteristic booming voice, "By the way, Keith, _did_ you give Sarah a belated birthday present?"

"Go back to class, Thomas," Sarah choked, suddenly nervous. Barely daring to glance at Keith, Sarah escaped into the classroom, only to find Keith right by her side as they entered. She felt his eyes on her. "It doesn't matter, you know," she said, self-conscious, stealing a quick look at his face. He had an unreadable look on his face.

Suddenly, his mouth curved into a smile. "But I did give you a gift," he said in a low voice. "Don't you remember?"

And Sarah stiffened, in a kind of numb shock, and could only stare as he turned and walked away. Stumbling, somehow she found her seat and slipped into it, the starting bell ringing at the back of her mind.

She felt as if normalcy and all its pretenses were broken, and she wasn't sure just who it was that had broken it.

_J Y S_

Glad to have escaped from school, Sarah slid onto the grass, her bag beside her as always.

The park was still her favourite place to be in. She didn't dress up and recite her lines anymore, at least not by herself, but it was still calming to be where her dreams had come alive, at least temporarily. Idly, she took out a book, intending to read the next few hours away in solitude.

It was getting dark when she looked up. Blinking, she wondered when time had passed so quickly, and shut her book. Before her, the sun was setting behind the tall trees that always loomed in the park. The sky was a brilliant work of colour, soft blue on top that gradually let way to burning orange as it neared the setting sun. She paused her actions for moment, staring up at the sight.

Lost in the sensation, she did not flinch when a voice spoke softly beside her. "Breathtaking, isn't it? I can see why you keep coming back to this place."

"That's not the only reason," Sarah said softly. She wondered why her heart wasn't beating frantically at the intrusion. Maybe it was tired to being jittery at every anomaly that jumped at her – there were simply too many changes happening around her at the moment to do that.

She sensed movement to her side, but she did not look. "Should I ask, then, why else you come back to this place?" he asked quietly.

Sarah opened her mouth to answer, then stopped. There was something, some emotion, blocking her answer, setting off the alarm in her head, and she didn't know what. "I'm sorry," she said, with a little inhale of breath. "I can't…" she shook her head, her already quiet voice trailing off into nothingness.

Perhaps it was something about the stillness and beauty of the scene that made them speak so softly, carefully… or perhaps it was the fragility of the tension between them.

"Sorry?" the voice asked.

Finally, Sarah turned to face him. He was sitting on the grass a few steps away, looking relaxed, his head tilting back as he looked at her. Staring at him, Sarah found herself thinking that his hair would have hung delicately in midair instead of sticking outwards at the shoulder if it had been just a bit longer, perhaps as long as Jareth's.

Her breath stilled for a moment. Why in the world, her mind asked in a wondering voice, was she seeing Jareth in Keith?

"Why did you say sorry?" Keith asked, gently, slowly. He seemed afraid to make any movements, in case Sarah would bolt.

He was right about that.

Sarah blinked, feeling as she was pulling out from underwater. "Because I don't seem to be able to treat you right," she said, hardly knowing what she was saying herself. "I mean – it feels like I'm judging my feelings and opinions about you based on something other than what you've done."

She gave a short laugh then, irritated and amused with her ability to make no sense. "I just feel like I should know you from somewhere else," she finally said.

Keith gave her a slight smile. "Maybe you should," he said gently. Excruciatingly slowly, he moved a little closer.

Sarah suppressed a shiver, hardly knowing why.

"Try to remember, Sarah…" He whispered, his eyes not leaving her. Hesitantly, he held out his hand, palm up, as if offering something.

"I'm sorry," she said, hoarsely. She watched him almost helplessly, as he dropped his hand at that. It lay on the ground as if lifeless, though his eyes that were glued to her were anything but. "I'm sorry," she tried again, attempting to make her voice work. "Is… Is there something I should remember?"

He was silent for a few moments, then he smiled again. "No," he said. "I suppose not. Although I was hoping you might realize…"

"Realize… what?" Sarah asked, staring at him.

"Oh, but hey," he said, relaxing and supporting himself comfortably with his hands behind him once more. "You haven't answered _my_ question." At her confused look, he clarified, "Why you like to come to this place. If not for its beauty, then for what? Memories?"

Sarah turned back to the sun, which was now hanging precariously on top of the trees, threatening to go down any second and let darkness engulf the world. "You might say that," she said with a little laugh. "I guess I started coming here when I was younger because of its beauty, because it seemed so otherworldy, like a place out of books. Then I grew so fond of it, and continued to come here, even when I wasn't looking for magic."

"You find magic in this place?" Keith looked around at the park.

"That too, and practicality," she said, grinning a little as she remembered something. "Not many people come here. It's great for any make-belief games I might want to play."

Keith laughed a little at that. "Ah, the good old days of being young."

Sarah breathed in the fresh, cold evening air, which calmed her down infinitely. She closed her eyes, feeling calm even as she brought up the subject again. "So, your turn to answer."

"Pardon?"

"My question. What is it that I should realize?" She kept her eyes closed, breathing in, breathing out.

His answer was soft, but it sounded much closer to her than it had been barely a second ago. "Realize that we've met before."

Her eyes fluttered open. "When had we met before?"

"That's another question," Keith said, almost teasingly.

Sarah glanced at Keith, almost flinching when she saw that he was closer than she had thought. He was now sitting barely a step away from her, one hand on the other shoulder, his chin on his upper arm, gazing at her with a little smile.

And she recoiled from him, shock coursing through her entire body.

_He had mismatched eyes._

Understanding hit her like a blow – just why she had thought of Jareth when she had glanced at Keith just a few minutes ago - and she pushed herself off the ground, barely able to find her balance. She felt nauseated, like she was going to throw up any moment. "I promised Karen I'd be home before dinner," the words tumbled out of her mouth. With shaking hands, she grabbed her bag and began to run from where she'd been standing, barely registering that the sun had gone down completely, barely realizing that she was running… again.

Keith watched her go. The girl had bolted from him, in the end.

_J Y S_

For a moment, Sarah felt disoriented.

The darkness enveloped her; she couldn't see anything other than black, even though she was fairly sure her eyes had opened just now.

Had they been closed before, then?

"I'm sorry," a muffled apology came directly in front of her, and she nearly screamed. Snatching the sheets to herself, she struggled to sit up.

A dim light was lit, pale and illuminating, and the darkness faded away suddenly. Sarah blinked, and suddenly she could see the outline of her window where light from outside was seeping through past the curtains. She was in her room, on her bed… and in front of her was the goblin king, holding out a crystal that was radiating a soft pale light.

She nearly screamed once more.

"I'm sorry," the man standing in front of her said again, this time a bit more forcefully, then turned his wrist, the crystal disappearing in a wink. Yet even without the dim light, it wasn't as dark as it had been when her eyes first opened.

Sarah let out a tight breath, leaning against the bed frame behind her. "Jareth?" she asked wearily.

"I wasn't going to wake you up," he murmured. "I didn't think you'd be asleep already. When I came and saw you sleeping, I was going to leave – but then I thought maybe you wouldn't like it if you thought I hadn't come, when I told you I would. Then again, of course, you wouldn't like it if you thought I'd spied on you when you were sleeping." He gave a short laugh.

She closed her eyes, shook her head once, then opened them once more. Her mind was still disoriented, but she couldn't tell if it was from seeing the goblin king in front of her eyes so suddenly, or from being jolted out of sleep.

Had she fallen asleep? She couldn't even remember.

"What time is it?" she asked, somewhat afraid to move to the other end of the bed to look at the clock – and thus get closer to Jareth.

"Just past eleven," Jareth answered. He still hovered, looking unsure, standing between her bed and the window.

She took a deep breath. All right. She could do this.

She pushed back the covers, then stood up. Three steps, then she was switching on the light, blinking at the sudden brightness. She looked around to find that her room looked just as it had this morning, and that she was wearing the same clothes she had worn to school.

"I must have come up here and just fallen asleep right after dinner," she muttered, running a hand through her hair.

"Do you wish to go back to sleep?" Jareth asked, quietly.

Sarah shook her head. "No, I should finish my homework, anyways. Eleven isn't that late." Strangely, she found that she could not make herself look directly at Jareth in the stark light of her room. "Would you like to, erm, sit down?" She made a vague gesture.

Jareth gingerly sat down on the edge of her bed, looking so out of place in her pedestrian bedroom that Sarah had to stop a rather nervous burst of laughter. Briefly she wondered if her nerves had finally given up and she had gone crazy.

"Homework?" His voice interrupted her thoughts.

"Erm, yes," she said, blinking. She turned from him and began to shift through the books that she had left on her desk, all the while feeling that prickling sensation on her back where she knew he must be watching. Thankfully, she noted, she did not have much homework; after all, her college applications were already sent, and there was only the matter of waiting for answers and keeping the marks up. Or should she be nervous about the fact that she did not have much excuse to keep herself occupied?

A creak of someone getting up from the bed, then suddenly he was standing behind her, standing so close, yet not touching. Still much taller than her, he looked at her books over her shoulder, his breaths traveling to her neck where a tingling sensation was beginning.

Her hands instinctively gripped the book in them harder, and she fought to keep her breathing even, though even she could not tell if it was from nervousness or… something else.

"What kind of homework?" The goblin king asked, sounding genuinely curious.

"Ah, well," Sarah stalled, grabbing the book she needed before taking a few steps away from the desk, from him. She swirled around, a smile plastered onto her face, knowing that he was again staring at her, yet unable to quite look at him. Without meeting his eyes, she dangled the book in front of her. "I don't suppose you know French, do you?" she asked, half-heartedly.

In a flash, Jareth snatched the book from her. Sarah had to fight another bout of nervous giggles at the sight of her book, appearing so ordinary, in those gloved hands that looked so exotic and otherworldly. Jareth, unaware of her jittery state, was staring down at the title.

"_Le Petit Prince,_" he read slowly. "By Antoine de Saint-Exupery. Interesting." He tossed the book back to Sarah, who caught it.

"Do you know French?" she asked, her eyebrows beginning to rise.

Jareth gave the book a look. "If you need me to," he said with a shrug. "Although if it's all right with you, I'd rather not."

She blinked. "What?" she asked.

"Unless I go to the trouble of learning a language from Aboveground, I can only speak it if I need to – as in, if the person from Aboveground that I'm talking to speapks it," Jareth clarified. He sat down on the bed again, looking uninterested. "Although I do speak French a little, my French is probably no better than yours, right now," he said, one end of his lips curling up.

Sarah stared at him. "Does so much depend on what the wisher wants?" she asked, uncertainly.

Jareth's gaze flew upwards, his eyes flashing in a way that made her want to look away. But when he spoke, he merely sounded tired. "Are we back to that, then?" he asked wearily. "Whether or not I'm here because I want to be, or because you wanted me to be? Whether I act the way I do because you want me to act a certain way? Whether I'm_real_?"

"I –" Sarah began, then stopped. There was no way to put into words her feelings just then, how she wanted to know for sure, how she couldn't _really_ know, how she was in truth terrified of what she might learn.

"If it helps," Jareth said tonelessly, "What we've just discussed probably doesn't count, because it works both ways. When you're in the Underground, you'll speak whatever language that you need to be speaking at that moment. That's what happened, two years ago." He shrugged. "Magic."

"I see." There wasn't much else she could say.

Jareth closed his eyes, then leaned back on the bed. "Well, then hurry up and finish your homework," he said; Sarah thought, or maybe hoped, that there was a slightly lighter tone in his voice.

"Is there a reason you want me to finish quickly?" Sarah inquired, watching him closely, trying not to provoke him any further.

_Why was it that they could never seem to talk without feeling some sort of apprehension?_

Jareth did not open his eyes, but answered with a definite quirk at the corner of his mouth. "Because I want to start teaching you on how to properly manage a crystal," he said.

Sarah tilted her head. Now that he was not looking at her, she found that it was easier to watch him. He looked so relaxed and tranquil, so comfortable, that he no longer appeared to loom in her room. "I thought it was just for my sake?" she asked, a teasing note entering her voice. "You know, therapy, calm myself down, focus on things better, stuff like that? _Not_ a signing up for a personal lesson from the goblin king?"

"Who else can teach you?" Jareth asked back. "Besides, you're not going to be doing much calming down if you don't even know how to do a simple turn with it, and right now, you don't. So obviously, for the therapy to work, you must learn first."

"Oh, fine," Sarah puffed, a smile now widening on her face. Hoping he couldn't see it, she sat down at her desk noisily. "I'll be quick – or at least, as quick as I can with this subject," she added darkly, eyeing all the pages that she needed to read. "But if you drive me crazy after this trying to teach me how to do something impossible with a crystal, I warn you, I'm going to have to practice throwing it at a moving object instead."

"I'll keep that in mind," Jareth answered easily. "Tell me when you're done, why don't you? I'll just be lying here and bored out of my mind." A smile was tugging on his lips as well.

"Have fun," Sarah quipped as she opened the book to where she had marked the page she needed to read.

A crystal warfare would break out not long after she catches his attention by dropping the box suddenly beside his head, and in the end he would be very nearly chased out the window by a certain French philosophical book; but the amused glint was never far from both their eyes, the green ones of the human girl and the mismatched of the goblin king.

* * *

I apologize for the wait! This story took a rather dramatic turn, and I needed to take the time to figure it all out again - not to mention, for some reason this chapter came excruciatingly slow, requiring edit after edit... At least it's by far the longest yet, right?

Many thanks to those who reviewed last time! Hope you liked this chapter, and as always, reviews welcome!


	9. Faith

_...I'm terribly sorry, I'm an extremely horrible person?_

* * *

**The Chapters of Life**

Chapter Nine: Faith

_But I've got to think twice_

_Before I give my heart away_

_And I know all the games you play_

_Because I play them too_

George Michael, Faith

"_She's in the oubliette."_

_A cackle of laughter._

"_Shut up. She should not have gotten as far as the oubliette." _

_A moment of silence._

"_She should have given up by now…"_

"_She'll never give up!"_

_A sharp look._

"_Won't she? The dwarf's about to lead her back to the beginning. She'll give up once she realizes that she has to start all over again."_

_And a feeling of…_

_relief._

"_Well, laugh."_

_The room filled with laughter once more, the goblins jumping up and down, stamping their feet, cackling with glee. Admist the chaos, nobody noticed a cape being pulled off the walls, a hat put on after hesitation, a mask hidden under the hat, the side door opened so quietly. Nobody noticed anyone missing, even the tallest of them, even the brightest of them._

_He had to go trap them, and remind the dwarf of his duties._

_He had to make sure the girl would lose._

_He had to… see the girl again._

_J Y S_

"A rather literal man, your father, wasn't he?"

Jareth glanced at the fey king standing on the hill, looking down at his labyrinth in morbid fascination. "That's one way to describe him."

"No – but I mean – look! It's a labyrinth, so he went ahead and _built_ an actual, physical labyrinth. Direct and to the point."

"He had to deal with humans," Jareth offered. "Humans would have been confused like hell if he'd just dropped them on a plain surface and told them to find their way."

"True," Harel conceded. He shook himself. "Well, then…"

Understanding his hesitation, Jareth nodded towards his castle. "Let's work from there, shall we? It'd be more comfortable, and we might be spending a long time working on this."

"I appreciate your trust in me," Harel began as they walked down the hill. "The fact that you're allowing me to delve into the magic in your labyrinth fills me with gratitude."

Jareth shrugged as he opened the door. "I trust you," he said simply. "And besides, after the barest glimpse at a labyrinth, a fey king would know its most intimate workings."

Once inside, Harel looked at the walls in fascination. "Even if the magic is becoming stagnant, the inner workings are excellent."

"But the magic remains stagnant," Jareth said. "And I need to remedy that."

"Of course. And I'm glad to be of help. I have to warn you, though, it may take months – and you need to finish it before running any Games in your labyrinth, including means no wished away children… and any other Game."

Knowing that Harel was referring to the Game with Sarah, Jareth simply nodded. "Let's go." Without saying anything more, Jareth led the way through the labyrinth, the walls parting easily for their king.

_J Y S_

Sarah looked around.

She was in her world history class, her pen twirling in her fingers as she jotted down some words every now and then. Every once in a while she took a look around the class, as if suspecting that she might have missed something the last time she looked around.

Nope.

Still no Keith.

She supposed she should be rather relieved at that. After all, she was still wary of the blond boy after their last meeting in the park. At the same time, however, he remained a mystery to her – a question she could not even discern, let alone find an answer for.

For one, like why he acted so familiar with her.

For two, like why the hell he looked so much like –

"Miss Williams?"

A smile snapping into place, she looked up. "Yes, Mr.Elliot?"

"Could you collect the essays from the students and put them on my desk? Thank you."

She stood up and began to go from desk to desk, glancing down at each cover page of the essays as she collected them.

No Keith.

Sarah gave a mental sigh. She was going to have to talk to somebody about this, she realized. She hated not knowing the answers.

Only after school could Sarah catch Thomas, biking home as he always did. "Thomas!"

Thomas glanced behind at the girl running to catch up, and braked. "Sarah? What's up? Is anything wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong," Sarah huffed, stopping next to him. "I just wanted to ask you – do you know where Keith is?"

He furrowed his brows. "He wasn't at school?"

"Nope," Sarah shook her head, suddenly feeling a bit self-conscious when he grinned at her.

"I was wondering if he would come – but hate to tell you this, Sarah, but he rarely comes to school. Remember?"

"I didn't think you were being actually serious," Sarah muttered. "Although I suppose that would explain why I haven't noticed his presence in my class until now."

Thomas' grin widened. "You notice him very much now, though, don't you?"

"Shut up." Sarah raked her hand through her hair. "I was just wondering – I had a question I wanted to ask."

"You might have to wait a while," Thomas said. "He comes only once in a while. And no, I don't have his phone number, although even if I did, I'm not sure I should be handing them out to girl-turn-stalkers."

"I'm going to hit you soon," Sarah warned. She turned half away, focusing on the road ahead, trying to organize her thoughts. If Keith was doing this on purpose, he was doing a marvellous job, she thought sourly. There was nothing else that could drive someone more crazy than presenting a problem without a solution, then disappearing.

Thomas nudged her. "Hey, all right? I didn't think you actually had to ask something that desperately – what's wrong? Is it school-related?"

She shook her head. "No, it's… not. It's all right. I just wanted to know something." It occurred to her then how vague she sounded, and she flushed slightly, knowing what she sounded like. Yet she really couldn't give a better answer, because she didn't know, herself.

"Miss him?" Thomas raised an eyebrow.

Ignoring his remark, Sarah turned to him abruptly. "How do you know him, then?" she asked, her eyes narrowing. "If he rarely comes to school, then you must know him from outside school?"

Thomas looked startled by her question. "He's somewhat of a childhood friend," he said. "We used to play together when we were in elementary school – back then, he actually came to school, and even without that, I'd see him because we were neighbors. He's moved now, though, and I really don't know where he lives."

"I wasn't going to stalk him, so you can relax," Sarah said sourly. She shook herself. "All right, just wondering. I suppose he'll be here next week, or something."

"All right," Thomas agreed, and they walked home together, him dragging the bicycle behind them.

That afternoon, Sarah went to the park again, like she had always done – but for a different reason.

She sat on the grass, just breathing in the fresh air and watching the scenery. After a moment, with a soft sigh, she took out _Le Petit Prince_ from her backpack and began to read it.

"…_But if you tame me, it will be as if the sun came to shine on my life. I shall know the sound of a step that will be different from all the others. Other steps send me hurrying back underneath the ground. Yours will call me, like music, out of my burrow. And then look: you see the grain field down yonder? I do not eat bread. Wheat is of no use to me. The wheat fields have nothing to say to me. And that is sad. But you have hair that is the color of gold. Think how wonderful that will be when you have tamed me! The grain, which is also golden, will bring me back the thought of you. And I shall love to listen to the wind in the wheat…"_

_The fox gazed at the little prince, for a long time._

"_Please – tame me!" he said._

"_I want to, very much," the little prince replied. "But I have not much time. I have friends to discover, and a great many things to understand."_

"_One only understands the things that one tames," said the fox. "Men have no more time to understand anything. They buy things already made at the shops. But there is no shop anywhere where one can buy friendship, and so men have no friends anymore. If you want a friend, tame me…"_

"_What must I do, to tame you?" asked the little prince._

"_You must be very patient," replied the fox. "First you will sit down at a little distance from me – like that – on the grass…"_

"Boo."

Startled, Sarah raised her head – right into a pair of mischevious eyes that belonged to the boy sitting down at a little distance away from her on the grass.

"You," she said, too startled to realize what she just said.

Keith leaned back, smiling a little. "Me," he agreed.

Flustered, Sarah shut the book with a thud. "Hi."

He raised an eyebrow.

"You weren't in school today," Sarah blurted out.

"Ah." He nodded. "That."

She put the book down, beside her. Beginning to feel a little self-conscious, she hugged her knees to herself, keeping her eyes off his enigmatic ones. "How come?" she asked.

He shrugged. "I don't like to go to school."

"Your parents don't say anything about it? Or were you roaming around?"

There was a pause.

"I don't have parents," Keith said softly. "Both of them passed away, a long time ago."

Sarah froze in the middle of putting her book away into her backpack. Immediately she dropped both things and turned to him, only to remember a second later that her action might have embarassed him. Feeling a strange constriction in her chest, she took two tries to say, "I'm sorry."

"That's all right." He leaned back completely now, so that he was lying on the ground. All she could see were his legs, drawn up. "It was a long time ago. I barely knew enough to miss them. And I have my foster parents."

She hesitated, feeling rather as though it would be rude to probe him now. But school was school (and curiosity was curiosity). "They, um, don't say anything?"

He just seemed grateful that she didn't ask the inevitable "What happened?" question. Still lying down, he answered, "Nope. They're technically not my foster parents – my true guardians are somewhere in Europe right now. They're… homestay parents? Caretakers? People who let me live in their house in return for money from my guardians." He laughed a little at himself.

Sarah couldn't bring herself to laugh with him, though she knew that historionic sympathy from her would not be welcome right now. "Who are your guardians, then? And… the… your caretakers don't care if you're in school?"

"They gave up, so to speak," Keith said lightly. "My guardians are my uncle and his wife. I've barely seen them, much like my parents."

"Oh." She bit her lips.

"Hey." He brought himself up once more. "Don't worry about it. I know it's a bit unusual story, but I don't feel bad or in need to empathy or anything. I only don't go around advertising my upbringing only because it makes the _listeners_ uncomfortable, not me."

Unconsciously, Sarah wound her hair in her fingers, biting her lips. "Okay."

Keith laid back down. "The sky is very pretty today," he said, in his light tone once more.

She glanced up, almost nervously. "It's very blue. It matches your eyes," she suddenly said.

A laughter came from the general direction of the boy. "I do believe that is the second most flattering compliment I've ever received on my eyes – _they look like the sky_."

"Well, they do," Sarah said, feeling a bit more comfortable.

"Mmm-hmm," was his reply.

They sat together in companionable silence for moments.

"I didn't see you here before," Sarah finally said. "Now I see you every day. Did you use to come here often?"

"I did," Keith answered. "And I do believe I've seen you here before – just maybe without you realizing it."

A breeze went through the trees then, rustling the leaves, and Sarah shivered.

"I should go," she said slowly.

"Should you?"

_A strange question,_ Sarah thought, though in truth there had not been anything too strange about it. The strangeness had been not so much the meaning of the words, but the way he had said them…

"Yes, I should." She said firmly.

Keith turned to her then. "Would you?"

"I would. I mean, I will."

He smiled then. "All right. I'll see you later, then."

Sarah wondered if she should dare, but decided to ask. "Come to school tomorrow. You shouldn't miss school."

Somehow, he managed to give a bow that was elegant despite the fact that he was sitting on the grass. "I shall try, my lady."

As she walked away, it occurred to Sarah that Keith never acted like a teenaged human boy.

_J Y S_

"Was it all real?"

Sarah absent-mindedly thought that this situation was very strange indeed. She was lying comfortably in bed, above the bed covers… with a goblin king also comfortably settled in right beside her.

How had she ended up in this position? Well, that was certainly an interesting question…

Earlier in the evening, a white barn owl had charged into her room, waking up a cranky teenager. The owl tried to convince her that throwing a pillow was animal cruelty, but the girl seemed determined that the owl did not count as an actual animal. After a brief bickering, the two had settled down to practice the crystal juggling, though both were getting less and less interested in it since the first lesson and were increasingly more interested in talking.

And since there was nowhere else for him to sit on – actually, the girl being a teenager, it was impossible to see the floor at all from the junk that cluttered the space – the owl, who looked startlingly less like an owl and more like a goblin king now, had taken his usual seat at the foot of her bed. She had sat down on the foot of the bed on the other side as they began their practice.

And somehow, both had gotten way too lazy to attempt any more teaching and learning. The girl had thrown down the crystal and leaned back, sprawled across the bed, and protested exhaution. He had remained sitting for a while as they continued to talk. But then, _somehow_, for some strange reason – the girl had claimed it was too much stress on her neck to be constantly looking up, or he had become tired as well as night wore on – he had leaned back as well. And now… well, here they were.

A rather scandalous position, the back of her mind noted. Yet the rest of her mind was much more concerned with other, more important things.

Like the question she had just asked.

Jareth lazily turned his head – _he_ didn't mind the position he was in – so that he could look better at the girl. "If you're asking about the Run through the Labyrinth, shouldn't the fact that a goblin king is beside you right now be enough proof?"

"I don't mean that." Sarah waved a hand. "I know it happened. I meant… the book."

"Ah." Jareth turned his head back, staring up at the ceiling. "The book."

Neither was talking about "_The Labyrinth"_, and both knew it.

Jareth considered that he was lying on a small, teenaged, mortal bed, yet did not feel out of place at all. That was a strange thought for him.

"It exists, so I suppose it's real," he finally said.

Sarah wasn't ready to let go at that. "Did you write it?" she asked softly.

There was silence. Then he sighed and turned to her, fully, now. "Yes, I wrote it."

Involuntarily, her eyes traveled to where the olive green leather-bound book was lying on her bookshelf.

"In a way," he added.

She turned to look at him as well, blinking. "In what way?"

He gave a smile that revealed his teeth, as if in amusement. "I don't use pen and ink to write."

"Magic," she muttered.

He shrugged.

Sarah began to toy with the corner of her bed cover. "I mean, though… Did you… Did all those things that you described in the book… happen?"

"Yes," he said after a pause. "It was real."

"How many goblins do you kick in a day?" she asked at that, arching her eyebrows.

He gave a small, half-snort laugh at that. "It varies. Quite a many, however."

"I figured."

There was another pause. Sarah turned her head, to find the goblin king staring at him with unreadable eyes. Wonderingly, she stared back at him.

Seconds passed. A soft sigh escaped his lips, so soft, that she wasn't sure if she had heard right. Then he closed his eyes. "It was real."

There was something in it, Sarah knew; there was nothing in it, so far as she could tell. She didn't know what to say; she felt she had to say something.

It took two tries, her voice having somehow disappeared from sudden flutters that began in her stomach. "Jareth?" It was a soft sound, more close to a sigh than a question.

He shook his head, his eyes still closed. A small, twisted smile appeared on his mouth, that looked bitter to Sarah.

Sarah began to push herself into a sitting position, suddenly uncomfortable, then stopped. Her heart was speeding up, and she felt a strange sensation beginning in her body. She felt awkward now, the easiness of her earlier situation having gone completely.

She couldn't look at him; she could not take her eyes away from him.

His head was tilted back now, his neck exposed, his eyes still closed. He looked peaceful, but anyone who was not flustered may have noticed that his breathing was anything but.

Without knowing why, without even realizing what she was doing, she reached out to him. Her fingers hovered just above his eyes, as if afraid.

He opened his eyes.

A smoldering pair of blue looked straight at him. Her breath caught, and she began to snatch her fingers back.

He caught them before she could retreat fully, still staring at her. Emotions were flickering across his face, emotions that Sarah could not tell but, inexplicably, understood. Her face flushed as she pulled on her hand, her eyes avoiding his.

He did not let go.

Slowly, almost gently he pulled her hand, so that she was pulled towards him. He hesitated, just once, before leaning forward to kiss her hand.

Something had happened – _was_ happening, she knew. A shiver seemed to be traveling from her hand to her entire self. She stopped trying to pull away, staring at him.

Jareth closed his eyes briefly. Uncertainty was stirring in his body, but something stronger was storming him. He didn't want to think as if he was losing control, _now_, after all this time, didn't want to think he was chasing her away by getting too close… But more than anything, he didn't want to think at all, not now, not here.

Abruptly, he pulled her to him, pushing himself up just a little bit at the same time, so that his face hovered just above her confused one. Her lips parted, as if in shock; she looked up at him, once, before looking away, blood creeping up her cheek.

His hand shook, with pure strain from trying to be as gentle as possible, as he reached down and touched her cheek; his entired body shook, from the sheer desire to be as close to her as possible and the feverish fear that she might bolt any time, that he might hurt and scare her.

"Sarah," he whispered. Look at me, he willed her. Look at me…

She did, just a flicker of her eyes back up at him, then she turned her entire face away, almost shrinking back away from him…

He followed her, leaning into her even more as she seemed to back away. Their foreheads touched. His breaths, uneven, floated across the surface of her face.

Then he was burying his face into her shoulder, sighing – letting go of the pressure that had been building and pushing at him.

Sarah could feel the tension drain out of the air, but still, _still_ the flutters in her body would not stop, even though nothing was happening.

Long after he left, with a soft good night, the flutters would continue. They would not stop, for the rest of her life. Yet they hadn't begun any recently; they had been there before.

She had just learned what they were, what emotion they represented. The first sleepless night she spent in her childhood bed, not tossing and turning but lying still and looking up at the ceiling, not thinking but feeling.

That was the night the goblin king left not a human girl but a young woman.

* * *

I'm sorry!! I'm sorry!! I... don't even have any good excuse that might explain the huge, gigantic gap in updates... I would like to try, though...

Firstly, I won't insult nor bore you by recounting all the messy stuff that's been happening in life.

But to go just a little bit back, to make a long story short, I had a short-term disease rather notorious for being contagious, and during the time I was confined in my room, I had this brilliant idea of actually finishing this story, and set right to it. Honestly, I worked almost all day, every day (which doesn't mean much, because how much is there to do when you're stuck at home?), and actually got a lot done; unfortunately, I jumped ahead and worked on the numerous chapters _after _this one.

Which meant I had quite a few chapters written, but none I could post.

And as I wrote those chapters, I kept having to go back and forth to ensure that everything fit nicely together. After a while, I decided that I was just going to have to finish the first drafts of every chapter before I could resume posting. It didn't look too bad then; I figured I'd be able to finish in a week and start updating in a timely manner.

Then, very _un_fortunately, I got better. And life came back with the added surplus of work I missed during those days, and everything was rather chaotic for awhile. Which, of course, does not excuse this atrocity, but I'm just trying to beg some sympathy, whining pitifully. ;)

Apart from that, this chapter just refused to get written. I had to straighten out a lot of plot, which further delayed this chapter because I didn't want any discontinuity.

Not to mention, this was the transition chapter in this story. This - and the next chapter - is the point in which changes happen, Sarah grows up, etc. And quite frankly, I had no idea how I could manage that. I'm hoping this final draft showed that.

Now at least I can promise without fear of going back on my word that I will be able to update reguarly (for real, really!) and that I will be actually able to finish story, please god. Many of the future chapters are written and revised, and it's a matter of filling in the holes between them.

Anyways! So that was the vague version of my story. I'm so, so sorry for the insane wait... I wouldn't be surprised if you've all give up on this new writer and forgotten about me. I would like to ask for a second chance, though, please. The good parts in this story are coming up, really!

If you could give this story a second chance, I would be your slave forever. ;)


	10. Seven Impossible Days

**The Chapters of Life**

Chapter Ten: Seven Impossible Days

_Sunday morning _

_O__ut of my mind_

_Feel like it's going to waste_

_Twenty five years_

_Seven impossible days_

Mr.Big, Seven Impossible Days

Days and weeks had passed, and the end of the school year was approaching rapidly.

Since the strange, sleepless night, many things stayed the same. Despite Sarah's requests and even threats, Keith came to school only once in a while, though the two met sometimes at the park. Thomas continued to be annoying. Katherine and Francine were looking towards their graduation with eagerness and regret. Toby started singing in mornings, just before breakfast, which fascinated Karen at first and annoyed Sarah endlessly.

Yet some things changed. Jareth did not sit on her bed again; the innocence of the simple act was lost. When he visited the next night, a comfortable sofa had been sitting in her room, and smiling a little, he had sat there without saying anything. Their relationship remained the same on the outside: teasing and light. But now Sarah felt something deeper, something darker, lying undercurrent to their interactions, and often wondered whether it had always been there, or had just begun.

Other things changed as well. The next morning after the Strange Night (as it had been dubbed unconsciously in her mind), Sarah walked down in the morning, and asked Karen about her condition. Before her father could say anything, Karen had answered her, surprisingly calmly. And Sarah took the news calmly as well.

She would be gone for university – for she began receiving both rejects and accepts – but she would have a new baby sibling.

That was cool.

_J Y S_

Sarah sat still as someone graciously fell to the ground right beside her. "Do you remember the first time we saw each other here, in the park?" she asked, keeping her eyes on the sunset.

"I do." Keith was stretched out on the ground, looking up at the sky. "The sun was setting, then, too, except it was much earlier than right now, because it was still winter then – and now, it's spring."

"Almost summer," Sarah said.

They sat in comfortable silence for a moment.

Finally, she spoke again. "Do you remember what we talked about?" she asked, in a low voice.

"Full of questions and reminiscences today," he said. Then he sighed. "Yes, I remember. We asked questions, then, too… and we only ever answered one of them, each."

"You asked me why I came here," Sarah said. "And I asked you what I should remember."

"I answered you, then," he said, a bit shortly. She glanced down at him to see him turn to his side and tilt his head as he looked at her.

"I never did realize where I saw you before." She hesitated for one moment, then gave in and laid on her back as well, looking up at the darkening sky.

Keith laughed, low and relaxed. "No, I don't think you ever did. I didn't really expect you to."

They both stared up at the sky for a while. The sun continued to go down.

"Next week's graduation," Sarah spoke first.

"Mm-hmm" was Keith's reply.

She turned her head, to look at him. His eyes were searching the sky, and he seemed engrossed in his task. "This is probably going to be the last time we see each other here," she said softly.

His hand, which had been rising to pull back his hair from his forehead, hesitated for a moment before coming to rest on his eyes. "Probably," he agreed.

"Why did you keep coming back here?"

"Do you really not know?" Keith's answer was muffled. "Or are you just asking?"

"I don't think I know," Sarah answered.

Keith sighed, then ran his hand down his face. "Because you wanted to be here," he whispered.

That was a strange answer, thought Sarah. She changed subjects. "Well, since this is the last time, I wish you'd tell me where I'd seen you before," she said, lightly.

He did not say anything for a moment. Then: "Have you ever tried looking for constellations?" he asked.

Sarah looked back up at the sky. "When I was a bit younger," she said, going with his strange flow of conversation as she always had. "Although it was always in winter, so that it would be easier to actually see the stars," she teased.

Keith smiled only a little. "You can see great stars during the summer, too," he said. "You only have to wait a bit longer, for it to get dark."

She glanced down at her watch. "Well, I don't think I can stay long enough today for that," she said, regretfully.

"Come back here after dinner, then?" The look he turned to her with was open, honest – and longing.

Sarah hesitated.

"You can sneak out even later, if you want," Keith said, with a real smile. "I'll be here, waiting."

She bit her lips. "I…" The image of Jareth came to her mind, and then she was shaking her head. "I don't think I can, Keith," she said in an apologetic voice. "The final exams coming up, and with everything else, I just don't think I can spare the time. I wish I could, though," she added in an actually wisftul voice. She did want to see the summer stars.

"If you come," Keith's voice turned low, inviting – seductive. "I'll tell you, finally, where we've met before."

"Now that _is_ a tempting offer," Sarah said, grinning at him as she stood up. "But no – I'm afraid I must be a boring girl who'll now obediently go home on time and spend her night studying."

"What a pity," Keith said mockingly, shaking his head. Sarah felt a strange feeling go through her body at that, and she paused in her actions, staring at him and feeling hesitant.

He waved her away. "Go, then. I think I'll stay here, waiting for the stars to come out all by my lonesome, and possibly catch a pneumonia from being out in the chilly night air by myself."

Sarah laughed as she dusted away any stray grass from her back. "I'll be sure to go to your funeral."

Keith only gave a slight grunt as he settled back.

"Don't actually stay out too late, Keith," Sarah called out as she walked away. "Don't want you actually catching something before graduation."

She walked for quite some distance, humming a little to herself. The stone bridge, the link between the park and the outside world, was just in front of her, and she began to walk onto it.

A hand wrenched her back, turning her so that she was gasping into its owner's face.

He was breathing hard from the running, and his hair was tousled, glinting in the dying sunlight. His gaze on her was intense.

"Keith?"

"Do you remember a crystal ballroom?" he asked, ignoring her. "It was a large, extravagant room."

Sarah stared at him with wide eyes. His voice turned softer, his eyes never leaving her, as it went on in a rhythmic tone.

"In it, everything was overdone – the masks, the pearls that hung from the ceiling, the chandeliers… Glitter was everywhere, on clothes, on the walls, even in people's hair." He reached out, and his hand stroked her hair, tenderly, as she stood rooted to the spot.

"You were wearing a big, white dress," he recalled. His breathing had slowed down, now. "And silver ornaments in your hair. A glassy necklace on your neck…" His hand smoothed the base of her neck, caressing.

Sarah took a step back, away from his touch, onto the bridge. Her eyes, wide with shock, were staring at him.

Keith gave her a sad smile. "You looked scared," he whispered.

"Keith." She wet her lips. "How… how do you know this? What are you talking about?"

"That's when we've seen each other before," Keith said, the longing that she had seen fleetingly on his face at times now very apparent in his expression. "I spoke to you, briefly… do you remember?"

Sarah could only stare at him in wonder. She could remember only one person who had said anything to her during that particular dream, if dream it had been. She had no idea how Keith could know about it, unless…

Unless…

"You ran away," Keith whispered. "At the end, before the song could end… you ran."

Sarah took another step back. Dimly, in the background, a clock struck seven. She shivered, feeling a sense of déjà vu – would her life always be ruled by the ominous chiming of the clock? "I have to go," she said.

Keith nodded. "But Sarah?

She turned back to him, apprehensively.

"The offer to watch the summer night sky is still open." He gave her a smile. "Besides, I haven't actually told you the answer yet."

"No?" the word left Sarah's mouth before she could rethink the decision.

He stepped back, his hair no longer glinting; the sun had gone down completely. "No." His smile turned secretive. "You see, I've told you where we've seen each other before – but I still haven't told you the _first_ time we've met."

"When…" She shook her head. "There isn't going to be much point in asking, is there?"

"No." Keith's grin was wide.

Sarah stepped onto the bridge. "I still can't come out later," she said, as if trying to convince herself.

He shrugged.

"Bye, Keith." She began to walk away, more quickly this time.

She still heard his whisper behind her. "Good night, Sarah. Sweet dreams."

_J Y S_

"Coffee?"

"Yes, please." Sarah held out a hand; a mug was placed in it. Without looking up from the text she was reading, she put it to her mouth and drank.

Jareth fell into his usual place on her sofa with a huge sigh, having done his duty. "You're no fun when you're studying," he complained. "I thought you were going to have more time as you approached the end of your school year."

"I am," Sarah replied absent-mindedly as she highlighted another passage. "It's just that it's not _that_ close to the end of the year yet, and I've got final exams, by which I mean huge, extremely difficult, and taking up a lot of percentage of the final mark."

"I thought you already got into the university you wanted." Jareth was not to be discouraged by the lack of attention paid to him by his courted.

"They still look at my final marks," Sarah answered, finally looking up from her notes with a hint of annoyance. "Now, can I study in peace, or do I have to chase you out?"

Jareth merely scoffed at the threat. "You were sleeping when I got here – I had to wake you up with promises of making you coffee. Without me, you'd still be sleeping."

Sarah stuck her tongue out, but had to grudgingly admit the truth of his words to herself. She'd gotten way too used to sleeping after dinner – it seemed that Jareth had to wake her up every evening. Kind of ironic, she reflected, that it was the goblin king who was waking her up to study.

The said goblin king was watching her closely. Jareth rather hoped that Sarah wouldn't be too bummed out about the fact that she would not actually be going to university when – if – she chose to live with him.

His mouth thinned. There would be a lot of things Sarah would be giving up if she chose immortality, chose him… but she would also be giving up a lot even if she chose to stay a mortal.

Either way, it was a difficult choice for her.

Sarah took another long drink of coffee before returning to her notes. "Just a few more days," she muttered darkly.

"Good," Jareth muttered back.

Without looking up, she threw her highlighter at him, which he dodged with ease. Yawning loudly for her ears, Jareth settled down to doze.

When he opened his eyes again, she was sitting beside him, her knees drawn up to her chest, her head cocked as she watched him closely.

"Finally finished?" he asked.

Without answering, she continued to stare at him, a smile tugging at her lips.

He blinked. "What?"

"Nothing," she said slowly. She shook her head, a grin breaking out. "It's just… well, sort of strange."

"What is?" he asked idly as he conjured a crystal, not missing her drawing back slightly at the sight, but ignoring the fact and moving the crystal around in his hands, lazily.

"This," Sarah said quietly. "It's almost similar to having a human boyfriend – just one my parents don't know about, and one who only visits me at night in my room without anyone knowing, but still… we're both used to doing this, spending time with each other regularly, finding each other so familiar…" She gave another shake of her head.

It was even more so, she knew, because Jareth dressed down for her. She'd complained after a while that his goblin king attire just seemed so out of place in her room, and after a rather surprised session of blinking, Jareth had dressed a bit differently, helping to put her at ease. She hadn't really thought that he would change his clothes, and was more than a little surprised the first time he'd come without his cloak and other glittery adornments.

Jareth, on the other hand, was giving her a strange look. "Do you want to have a human boyfriend, Sarah?" he asked in a different voice.

She was thrown off balance. "Well…" She twirled a stray strand from the sheet under feet, wondering what to say. "I just meant that this is similar to having a boyfriend." She felt strange now, referring to the goblin king as her boyfriend.

"I meant," Jareth insisted, the strange look still on his face, "Do you want to have experienced having a human boyfriend? Do you wish it?"

Sarah eyed him warily at the word. "You can't suddenly turn into a human just because I 'wish' it, can you?"

The goblin king laughed out loud at that. "Ah, but you're still avoiding my question – or was that a yes, seeing as how you were testing what would happen if you did wish it?" He was relieved, inside, that she wasn't thinking of meeting someone else at all, taking for granted that it would have to be always him.

"Honestly? I don't know," Sarah shrugged. "I've never had a proper boyfriend. Up till when I was fifteen, I was too busy with plays and games, and after that… well, to tell you the truth, I never really was quite normal enough to keep a boyfriend for long."

"You mean after encountering the Underground – and me," Jareth said, a bit subdued.

Sarah hugged her knees. She was feeling a bit jittery, for some reason. "Well – yes," she said honestly. "After I learned that magic was, is, real… nothing really ever felt the same, you know? It always felt like there was something _else_." She shrugged, knowing that her words did not adequately describe it, not really, but not knowing what else she could say.

"I'm sorry." The words were quiet.

She looked up to find Jareth leaning closer, his hand brushing her cheek in a now familiar way – _fnding each other so familiar _– as his eyes seemed regretful. "I guess you never were given a chance to live normally – nor ever will be," he said.

Sarah shook off the gloom. "That was my fault, remember? I was the selfish girl who had wished away her little brother – and you were the goblin king who was obliged to grant my wish, then give me a chance to go back on my world – even if you did give me a rather hard time about it," she gave him a teasing look.

"I did more than that," Jareth protested. Sarah merely laughed at him.

_But what no one knew was that the king of the goblins had fallen in love with the girl…_

Sarah blinked, then shook the memory away. "Well, are you going to teach me tonight?" She held up a crystal.

"Wait." She gave him an inquiring look. He inhaled, deeply, before saying, "Would you like to have a normal… date? Tomorrow's Friday, right? We could go somewhere, if you liked."

Sarah paused. "A date."

"Yes."

"With you."

A slight hesitation. "Yes."

She stared at him. "I didn't even know you knew what the word meant," she said in a wondering tone.

He frowned at her, but only mockingly. "I know more about the ways of the Aboveground than you think."

"Oh, really? Why is that, I wonder?"

"Is that a yes, or no?" he asked impatiently.

Sarah hid a laugh. He sounded as impatient as any human boy waiting for an answer, if a touch less nervous. "Fine. But I don't suppose you have any idea where we'd go?"

"I could say yes, and make tomorrow absolutely miserable, since I have no idea. But I think I'll be nice, and admit that no, I don't, and you'll have to organize it."

"Oh, goody goody," she grinned at him, liking the idea better and better. "But you have to do your part – you have to dress like a human."

"I can dress like a human," Jareth said flatly. "But I can't dress like a human teenager."

Sarah had to concede that point. "No, I don't think so. Now, are you going to teach me crystal, or no?"

"So eager to learn tonight, are we?" Jareth muttered as he conjured another crystal. He did not miss her flinch.

"Can you stop doing that?"

"Why are you so nervous about it?" Jareth asked back, having wanted to ask for a while. "You said you didn't mind magic – you've felt that magic was around you for over two years now, in any case – but you still wince whenever I do that. Why?"

Sarah shot him a look. "Can you blame me if I associate magical crystals with rather bad memories?" she asked ungraciously.

"No," Jareth said. "But you can still get used to them, can't you? Here." On an impulse, he threw the crystal at the girl, who barely caught it in time. "I think tonight, we'll learn how to deal with magical crystals."

Sarah looked nervously down at the clear orb in her hand, as if worried that it would suddenly jump up and bit her nose. "What do I do with it?"

"Relax, Sarah," Jareth said, amused. "It's a crystal, nothing more. It won't suddenly jump up and bite your nose."

She only directed him a dark look as she gingerly held it out in front of her.

He could tell that she did not believe him, as absurd as she knew it was, and hid a smile. "Now try doing a simple turn, like the first ones you learned to do," he instructed.

Tentatively, she turned her wrist and rolled the crystal around her hand completely once. Immediately the crystal lit up, and she gave a little gasp, losing her focus. The crystal dropped to the floor, still that unnatural glow oozing out from its core.

Jareth watched her, the smile completely gone now. "Sarah," he said quietly, "Why _are_ you so jittery? I don't think you were this concerned with magic."

"No," she said after a pause. "I don't think I was, either."

"So why are you now?" Jareth picked up the glowing crystal. He had conjured it only for the purpose of having something to do with his hands, and the crystal had not had any other magic than lighting up.

She was quiet for a moment. Then she sighed, running her hand through her hair. "I don't know. It might be from the paranoia that I developed for a while back. I used to feel as though I was being watched, all the time…" she shivered. "And I would always think that I saw something dark out of my eyes, and turn only to find nothing."

She gave a little laugh, one that was little too shrill for Jareth's peace of mind. "Normal paranoia, I suppose. But after a while, I just started avoiding anything strange, I guess."

If Sarah had looked up at that moment, she would have found immense guilt written on Jareth's face.

"Sarah," he began, "maybe it's time to get you off that paranoia."

Sarah looked up in alarm. "I'm fine. I'm getting better, really. You don't have to worry about conjuring crystals in front of me."

"Oh, but I don't think that's good enough." Jareth gave her a charming smile. "_I _think," he said with a mischievous glint in his eyes, "that you should start by doing magic yourself."

"What? Oh, no –"

"Yes." Annoyingly calm despite her alarm, Jareth grabbed her unwilling hand and pressed the crystal into it. "Don't drop it," he warned, "Or it might burst into flames."

Sarah started, then realized that he was joking and glared at his laughing face.

"Sarah. Really. It won't bite your nose, or burn up, or anything other than glow innocently in your hand. Now turn it off."

Jareth was enjoying too much for his own good, Sarah decided. She glanced down at the crystal that looked anything but innocent; she rather imagined that there was a sinister streak in that pale glow.

Taking a deep breath, she tried to turn it again – then dropped it in her anxiety. The light flickered for a moment, then settled down once more.

"Close," Jareth observed. "But you have to actually turn it once completely to turn it off. Come on, Sarah – I thought you ate such turns for breakfast?"

"That was with different crystals," Sarah muttered, but his taunting worked. Without further ado, she swiftly rolled it around her hand. The light faded.

"Bravo," Jareth said calmly. He leaned back comfortably watching the girl, who seemed now fascinated and was turning it again and again to see the light go on and off, and grinned.

As for Sarah, she was beginning to get mesmerized by the crystal. She tried different juggles, seeing what would happen if she turned it this way and that –

then she blinked in surprise, as the crystal suddenly disappeared in her hand.

"Ah, yes." Jareth watched lazily from where he was sitting. "It tends to do that if you turn it _that_ way."

Sarah smiled sheepishly as she looked up to meet his eyes.

"Right, then." Jareth briefly considered teasing her a bit more, but abandoned the thought; after all, she had twelve very solid crystals that did _not_ wink out of existance at her disposal, and he didn't want to get chased out as an owl anymore. Instead, he lazily flicked his wrist and conjured another similar crystal that he tossed to her.

She caught it with more ease this time, then casually did a simple turn to find that this one lit up in a bit different hue. She grinned up at Jareth. "This is cool."

"Glad you think so," Jareth said easily. He figured learning any more new turns were out of the question, tonight, and decided he might as well show her more magic. "Now make that one disappear. I want to show you something else."

Casting him a bit wary glance, Sarah did a two-hand juggle, a bit sloppily as she was not used to that yet, and the crystal disppeared.

"You don't have to do it that way," Jareth said, sitting up a little. He conjured another crystal, then held it out so that she could see it better. "A crystal like this contains magic," he said, tapping the crystal with his thumb. "And it doesn't necessarily have to be juggled like that, if the user has magic on his own, since he can trigger the magic with a small burst of his own. However, if a user does not have magic, the crystal needs to be triggered – by turning it this way."

He did a simple turn; instead of lighting up, music began to softly fill the room. She glanced around once, then turned back to the crystal, a wondering smile on her lips.

"If you do a turn that covers its surface enough," Jareth continued after a pause in a quieter voice, matching the melody that was flowing from the crystal, "it disappears." Reluctantly, he demonstrated it.

"Just how much can you do with it?" Sarah asked, wonderingly.

Jareth studied her for a moment, then lowered his eyes. "I'm the goblin king, Sarah," he said quietly. "My magic doesn't have limits in uses, if in amounts, with or without crystals."

"Oh." Sarah felt a bit uncomfortable, reminded sharply of the fact that the man sitting in front of her was fey, magical – and a king.

Jareth suppressed a sigh.

_Always, there's always, something between us… _

Then Sarah grinned. "So I can ask you to create a crystal that can tell me the answers to me during my test tomorrow? After all, you owe me for keeping me up so late."

"On your own for that, I'm afraid," Jareth said, frowning at her mockingly. "And since I don't want to be accused of being responsible for letting you fail your test, I should let you sleep, now." He stood up, then offered her a hand from the sofa so that she could get into bed.

She took his hand without much thought – _so familiar _– and stood up, then paused, looking at his hand.

"What?" he asked, curious.

Instead of answering, she brought up her other hand, so that she was held his hand in both hands, and studied it carefully.

Jareth let her, a smile playing at his lips. "What?" he finally asked again.

She looked up, still holding his hand. "You're wearing gloves," she said with a puzzled look.

"I'm always wearing gloves," Jareth answered, gently pulling back his hand.

"You were always wearing your goblin king outfit before, too, but then you changed…" Sarah said, slowly, still looking as though she was puzzled at herself for not noticing it earlier.

Jareth tilted his head, truly not knowing where she was going with this. "You want to see my hand?" He slowly tugged off one of his gloves, watching her.

She caught the bare hand with her own. "You have slender fingers," she said, as if such a thing was amazing.

Jareth nearly stuck his tongue out at her, and mentally decided that he really was spending much too time with her, picking up such strange habits. Instead, he said mildly, "I prefer the term pianist's fingers."

Immediately her head came up. "You're a pianist?" she asked in disbelief.

"Yes." Jareth frowned.

She was staring at him for a moment – then dropped his hand, a slow smile beginning to appear.

"What?" the goblin king asked, putting his glove back on.

"Nothing," she shook her head, then smiled more widely. "I just think I know where to go tomorrow, now."

* * *

I realize I babbled on enough last chapter. So here it is, nice and simple: Thanks to all those who reviewed so far, they mean a lot to me, and thanks to all those who've read this story. We've got some way to go, though the actions are finally rising towards the climax, so I hope you'll bear with me for a bit longer! Thank you!


	11. Liebestraum

**The Chapters of Life**

Chapter Eleven: Liebestraum

.

"That's it for today, I think." Jareth stretched. He felt uneasy, as he turned his wrists, feeling just a bit sore. "I know the labyrinth enjoys being repaired thus, but I'm also getting strange, insistent throbs from it."

"Hmm." Harel looked sideways at him. "Forgive me for prying, but… you are in the middle of conducting a Game with a human girl, aren't you?"

"The labyrinth is getting impatient," Jareth translated for him. He stretched one last time, then stood straight. "Not many days left, after all."

Tactfully, Harel avoided the subject as he also stood up from their work with bleary eyes. "I'm rather beginning to respect whoever first built the labyrinths. This is an insanely immense amount of work."

"The opposite goes for my father," the goblin king said with his contempt not hidden. "He evidently did not take much care of his own kingdom."

"He hasn't done the best of work," Harel agreed carefully. Politically, he couldn't afford to show disrespect to a former fey king, even if the present one did. He gave a light sigh. "Or it could be that you're just a bit biased, Jareth."

Jareth walked away to the window, needing fresh air after hours of working on the labyrinth. "I might be, but it's still the truth," he said shortly.

"He hasn't done much in the way of indoor decoration, true, but the physical labyrinth itself is quite a work of art – even if its magic is stale."

"He didn't rule his kingdom," Jareth said, staring out at the labyrinth in question. It _was_ beautiful, in its own way… but it was also useless. "He got caught up too much in the fairy tales of the mortals, and when the legends were slowly forgotten, he just faded away, himself." His mouth twisted. "He didn't even think to secure an heir."

Harel was careful in his choice of words, not only because of political issues, but also because of his friend's tendency to fly into rage whenever the subject was mentioned. "He knew he had offsprings."

Jareth gave an arid laugh, genuinely amused. "Bastards here and there, surely, but no one he'd truly bothered to train – or even meet. Not on any woman he loved."

Silence fell between them.

Finally, Harel rubbed his eyes. "Jareth, you don't know what happened," he spoke.

"No, you're right," the goblin king answered, just as quietly – but in a much, much colder voice. "You're right. I _don't_ know."

"Jareth-"

"_I don't know,_" Jareth snarled. "I don't know if what they had was love, even fleeting, or just desire – or just lust on my father's part, nothing more. I rather suspect the last. What does it matter? I was just one of the many, just one who happened to get lucky."

Harel's face was in the shadow as he bowed his head. There wasn't much he could say.

Seconds passed. Jareth's grip on the window sill relaxed. He left where he had been standing. "I apologize, Harel. I shouldn't have lost my temper like that."

"Don't concern yourself with such things," Harel said, waving away the formality. His eyes had been on the model of the labyrinth that they had used to help in reviving the labyrinth's magic, but the older fey king was now standing up. "I'll leave now, then. If you ever get stuck again, or need any aid in your task, call me."

"Thank you." Jareth gave a slight nod of thanks as Harel calmly disappeared.

The goblin king sank into his chair for a moment, closing his eyes and resting, chasing away unwanted thoughts.

His father, he could think without any inhibitions. He hated the man, even if he'd never seen him, _because_ he'd never seen him. He loathed him for being such an ineffective king.

But his mother…

He abruptly stood up. There was no time to dwell on such things.

He had, after all, a date.

_J Y S_

Sarah waited impatiently.

Her hair had been brushed over and over again until it hung straight down her shoulders. It matched her brown jacket well. The jeans she was wearing was the best one she had, and there was hint of make up on her face.

After all, he had only seen her when her hair was a mess from sleeping and she was in her night clothes. If this was going to be a date, she might as well make the best out of it and dress up.

Now, if only the date in question would show up…

She spotted him, in a few minutes.

He was walking towards her, as if determined to give her the illusion of this being a mortal date; she knew he could have just appeared in front of her, rather than walk from wherever he had entered the Aboveground.

A part of her mind absently wondered just where and how he came to the Aboveground, but most of her mind was busy appreciating the effort Jareth gone to for her.

His hair was shorter, much shorter, and arranged in the sort of careless hairstyle that requires hours of work to appear as if it had been effortlessly done in a few minutes. He was wearing jeans, which was a rather jarring sight, and a white t-shirt underneath a black vest that was zipped up just below the base of his neck. All of his arms were bare, but the black gloves were still there, matching the vest well.

He stood in front of her now. "Ready?" he asked, cocking his head. His hair blew gently in the wind, looking all the more beautiful.

"You look younger." Her words were a question, bordering on accusation.

His teeth glinted as he smiled. "I haven't done anything magical to appear younger."

She pushed herself off the fence that she was leaning on, and gave him a look. "Are you trying to imply that you actually did the hair and clothes without magic?"

"Now I have to admit I'm lost," Jareth laughed, softly, as he offered her his hand. She took it without thinking, but felt the strangeness of the situation even stronger as they began to walk – she was _strolling_ down the street, _holding hands_ with the goblin king.

"What am I supposed to say next?" he continued, humor still in his voice. "'I really haven't done much'? Or, 'Anything for you, my dear?'"

"If you're trying to sound like a human," Sarah said, rolling her eyes, "Start by dropping the my dear. Teenagers don't call each other dear."

"Like I'd said before, _human,_ not _teenager_. I don't even dare attempt such a feat."

Sarah laughed out loud as she walked a little faster, half-leading, half-dragging him. "I could be offended," she called out behind her. "I _am_ a teenager."

"You could be, but you're not." Jareth matched her pace. "Where are we going, by the way? You seem in a hurry to get there."

"I want to get there early, so there won't be a crowd." With that, she led him across the street, then into a restaurant a few doors down the street.

Inside was a bit dark. Jareth blinked, his pupils adjusting, as he looked around. The building was built of wood, and nothing was done to hide that fact; the walls had been left alone, without anything to cover up the wood. A few dim lights hung from the ceiling. There was an upstairs balcony, and a few round tables that were decorated so charmingly with lanterns and flowers, and –

_Ah._ Off to the far corner, Jareth noticed what Sarah had undoubtedly meant when she spoke of an idea the night before.

It wasn't a stage, not really. It was just a little clearing, with a mike and a few instruments left out for people to play, such as a guitar, a saxophone, a violin, and –

A piano.

Without her telling him, he walked over to the instrument, running his hand down the top fondly. It was a baby grand, small and black.

Sarah was standing beside him, soon, after securing a table for themselves nearby. He saw that there was an impish grin on her face as she looked up at him, tilting her head so that her hair fell on the instrument. "Play for me?"

Jareth laughed, as he placed a hand on her head. "Is this what you had in mind?" he asked, mirth rising in him.

She shook his hand away with a flick of her hair. "Yes." She stepped back. "I'm going to sit at our table, and listen. Don't disappoint me – or I'll be ruthless all evening." Listening to his chuckle, she went and sat down at a table only a few paces away, placing her arms on the table and watching him expectantly.

Jareth paused only for the briefest moment before he walked around and sat down. He ran an experimental hand across the keys, marveling at the touch of them under his fingers. It had been too long since he'd touched an instrument.

He considered the keys for a moment, staring at them, almost forgetting the quiet girl who was watching him. Then he raised his head, and glanced over to Sarah. "If I don't live up to your expectations this time, don't blame me. I haven't played for such a long time." Probably longer than you have been alive, he thought, as he slowly pulled his slender fingers out of his dark gloves.

Sarah shrugged. She was plainly excited to hear him.

Placing the gloves on top of the piano, Jareth hesitated, for one sweet moment, before his finger came down on the keys.

Without warming up, without any dawdling, he began to play, his eyes closing, his hands traveling smoothly, dreamily, lovingly…

_Liebestraum… Dream of love._

Sarah felt her eyes close as well. The melody lured her, calmed her… let her dream.

She did not open them even as the last note faded away. She was much to relaxed, _dreamy_, to do anything other than linger in the aftermath silence of the song even as footsteps came towards her. Then she felt warm lips on her forehead, and her eyes finally opened.

He was leaning down at her, his hair shadowing his eyes. Wordlessly he kissed her again, on the forehead, as she stared at him, then straightened and walked around the table to sit on the other side.

Her heart was beating fast, but this was a different kind, not the kind of nervous fluttering that she had promised she would not let happen again. It was more pleasant, yet even more unnerving, unsettling… more aching.

He watched her, silently, his eyes still shadowed in the dim light of the restaurant.

She calmed her breathing. It took some tries. Finally, she said, in a soft yet teasing tone, "Liszt?"

Jareth nodded, once. The gloves were back in place. "Yes. You don't like Liszt?"

"I love Liszt," Sarah said. Her heart was purring, and she was beginning to decide she didn't mind that feeling. "It's just that – you said you'd been away from a piano for a long time, then play _Liszt_ without warming up or anything." She shook her head in amazement. "I didn't expect you to be that wonderful a pianist."

Jareth smiled. "So I surpassed your expectations for the first time," he said teasingly. "Though to tell you the truth, I was a bit surprised, as well… I _haven't_ played for years – but that song had been a rather favourite of mine, so I guess it's not really surprising."

"When _was_ the last time that you played?" Curiosity was evident in her voice.

The smile he sent her was feral. "Do you really want to know?"

"Uh oh. That long?"

"Maybe." The teasing grin was back.

Sarah picked up the menu and toyed with it. "I have a question."

"I have an answer. Who shall go first?"

She was not to be thrown off her question, though she did glare at him briefly. "When _did_ you learn to play piano?"

He blinked. Obviously, he had not been expecting that question. His face was carefully blank as he answered again, "Do you really want to know?"

Same evasive answer – yet this one was spoken a bit more blankly, a bit more carefully.

"Yes." Sarah's answer was sure.

He watched the top of the table for a moment, considering. Then he answered, blankly. "When the piano was invented."

"Oh," Sarah said rather lamely, kicking herself for not realizing the answer yet. After all, considering his age –

Her thoughts came to a stop.

How old _was_ he?

"Although," he was going on, interrupting her thoughts, "I suppose you might say I really started music when the harpsichord became popularized."

Judging from his mood, now was not the time to ask a new question, Sarah decided.

She turned the conversation lighter as she opened her menu and peered at it. "It was one of my dreams, you know," she said softly. "Being on a date, when someone plays the piano for me…" she laughed at herself. "I think I would have actually chosen that song, if I had been asked what song I would have liked to heard."

"I hope you're not thinking that I played it so wonderfully because you wished it," Jareth warned her, shaking off his gloom and adopting a playfully dangerous tone as he opened his menu as well. "My musical pride is already bleeding at the thought that you might believe my abilities are something other than mine."

"_I_ didn't say anything." Sarah countered, just as playfully. She changed subjects. "So, what would you like to eat?"

The rest of the evening went well, considering.

Their conversation didn't really change from what it had been at home. They ruthlessly teased each other and laughed at themselves. They did have a rather heated dispute on what to order as dessert, but peace was made by ordering way more than they could ever eat.

"I like doing this," quipped Jareth as he took another bit of one of the numerous desserts.

"Really? I'm glad." Sarah lazily sipped at her coffee, grateful for the taste. "Does that mean you're going to phone me tonight?"

Jareth looked at her strangely. "I'm going to _be_ there tonight," he reminded her.

Her only response was to roll her eyes.

He shot her a 'I-saw-that' look at her before picking up a spoon to start nibbling away at the mountain of ice cream sitting in the middle of their small wooden table. "I get to see you for longer than usual," he explained his earlier comment as he leisurely took a mouthful. "I like that. And I get to see you during the day – well, evening, I guess."

A now-familiar fluttering. Sarah took a mouthful of the ice cream herself, to give herself time while she tried to decide what to say. She settled on, "You see me way more than a human boyfriend ever would," with a prim expression.

"I had to wait until you were eighteen," Jareth pointed out. He was totally relaxed.

_Might as well ask now, then._

"So," Sarah began, licking her spoon, "since this is a normal, human date, might as well get the first-time questions out of the way, right?"

"Ask away."

"Do you have any siblings?" she chose a question that seemed safe, for now.

Apparently it wasn't. Jareth stilled for a moment, his face stony, then he put down his spoon, carefully. "None that I've met."

The thought of the goblin king having a sibling was bizarre for her. "How many do you know that you have?"

"Countless." His tone was dead. "I didn't really count. I doubt my own father counted."

There was something about the way he saw _my own father_ that alerted her to the truth. She tried a guess. "Any from your mother?"

"Only me."

This wasn't really a good start, Sarah knew. She also knew that any conversation like this with him was bound to be uncomfortable and stilted.

So she barged on. "Which one was the goblin royalty that left you the throne?"

"My father." Again, that tone, that flash of distaste.

Disturbed, Sarah put down her spoon as well, the food forgotten. "Do you mind me asking these questions?" she asked quietly. "I can stop, if you want."

Jareth opened his mouth – then shut it again. Silence stretched out between them for a long moment.

Finally, he shook his head. "No. I don't like to talk about it – but I should tell you."

"You don't have to," she stumbled in her awkward words.

Jareth did not reply, but he gave a small shake of his head, which Sarah had no idea what it meant.

"Do you want to leave, now?" she asked after a small pause.

He looked up at that. "You wish to go home?"

"I was actually hoping we could go for a walk," Sarah answered, hesitantly.

There was another blank expression on his face as he looked at her – then he smiled. "That sounds good."

After a few minutes, during which Jareth gallantly paid for their dinner (Sarah did not ask where he got the money, though she was silently impressed by his ability to count mortal money), they were outside, walking side by side in the dusk in silence.

"Any particular place you wish to go?" Jareth broke the silence with his question.

"I want to walk, for now."

They walked.

Sarah stole glances at him as they walked. He still looked younger than the goblin king, but there was a difference in him that had not been present earlier in the evening – he looked weary, she realized. There was a tired weariness in him, one that would be present in only those who had experienced many years.

Yet whatever he was appearing as, there was always something about him, Sarah thought, something that made her feel…

She felt happy, without reason, when he was there.

She felt her heart nearly stop, whenever he made the vaguest movement – leaning in a bit closer, pushing her hair back, reaching for her hand.

And when he'd been playing the piano earlier, she had felt such a strong emotion surge inside her, one that made her breath catch as she listened to him, that started a sort of trembling in her body, trembling that had only worsened when he'd kissed her on the forehead.

"Yes?" Feeling her eyes on him, Jareth lowered his head slightly, watching the girl, a hint of warmth in his question.

She had an idea. "I want to show you something."

He let her take his hand and drag her down the street, across the bridge, into the park.

There, she released his hand and ran a few steps forward, breathing in deep the night air, tilting her head backwards.

He watched her, a hand in his pocket, with his eyes softening. She was still so young, he thought. Nearly eighteen and a half, but still so young. His heart ached to see her like that, spreading her arms, her eyes closing, like the child she had been when she had rehearsed her lines all those years ago. Like the child he had first fallen in love with…

She turned back to face him, still intoxicated by the fresh air. She slowly opened her eyes, coming back down to earth.

"Your favourite place to be," Jareth said, quietly.

Sarah nodded. "A place where my dreams could come true, for a short while." She looked up at him, past her eyelashes. "You were here, weren't you? You were always here – when_ever_ I came here. The white owl."

"Guilty as charged," he breathed. He put a finger on the center of her forehead, unable to help a little teasing. "How else did you think I knew about all your dreams?"

She did not smile, as he'd intended her to. Instead, her eyes shadowing slightly as she lowered her head, she stepped forward, closer to him, now barely a pace away.

"I just realized something about my dreams," she said, softly.

He lowered his hand, watched her. Said nothing, encouraged her to continue.

She took a deep breath. "I once said I was afraid I didn't know who you really were," she began, quietly. "That I was afraid my wish of who I wanted you to be would overcome who you really were… that my desire to know you would be weaker than my dream of who you are and my fear of who you might be. Like I'd said, I'd never know."

All around, it was dark and silent. Not another sound was heard, other than that of her voice, which carried on after a small intake of breath.

"But now I just realized… I don't need to worry about that. Because I know, now."

She raised her eyes. He was staring down at her, his expression… what? Stunned? Careful? Waiting?

Sarah breathed in, deep. The night air was still intoxicating her, and she went on, softly, boldly. "It doesn't matter, you see, because I know. Because it's you. Because I want you. It's not that you are who I want you to be – but it is that I want you, whether you're the goblin king, a tutor in magic, a pretender who won't be a teenager – You are who you are, and I want you to be nothing else. I want you – just you - "

One step, one quick breath, then he was sweeping her up in his arms, stopping her last words lifting her up, holding her close. There was a feverish kind of longing in his eyes. "Say that again," he whispered, looking up.

Her heart fluttering once more, she braced herself shakily with her hands against his shoulder. "I want you."

"Say it again."

A kind of nervous laughter was bubbling hysterically inside her, and she nearly choked. "I want you –"

"Say it –" the laughter burst out from her, and at her squirming he nearly lost balance, but still, still he held her, though she slipped down just a bit closer to the ground now – "Again."

Their foreheads touched. Her body was shaking from the laughter, though she hardly knew why she was laughing – _he_ was unable to take his eyes off her, staring at her, staring at her –

"I love you," she whispered, then lowered her head to bury it on his shoulder.

He moved before she could, and their lips met, sweetly, chastely, seemingly never-ending.

He let her down, after long moments during which neither had spoken, still holding her close.

They stood like that, for a long time, in each other's arms, the goblin king and the human girl.

Finally, she moved back, just a little, breathless. He allowed that inch between them only reluctantly.

"I should…" what was it that she had been trying to say? She couldn't remember – all she could remember was the trembling, the heat, the sweetness – "go home." Yes, she remembered now, she'd promised to be back before ten, she had to go now…

"Wait," Jareth said, his arms still cradling around her, his voice husky. "Don't go yet." He slowly relaxed his hold on her, so that they were now in only a loose embrace.

"I'll see you there," Sarah whispered, the words both a question and a reassurance.

Instead of answering, he moved, pulling on her arm, so that they were now sitting on the grass, her head tucked under his chin, her arms around his neck.

"Not just yet," he repeated, burying his face on her hair, breathing in her scent.

She turned around, so that she could see his face. "Jareth –"

He caught her lips again, softly, before releasing gently. "Watch the summer stars with me," he said, his voice low.

She did not say no, and they sat there for long moments, always in each other's arms, looking up at the sky.

After a few moments, a few more stolen kisses, he began to speak.

* * *

Annnd here is chapter eleven! Hope you liked it, and thank you a thousand times for those who reviewed last time! ;)

And yes, that is the last sentence. Next chapter will cover what Jareth talked about after this - in other words, a flashback of his past. **Sonia**, whose review to chapter nine I couldn't reply to because it wasn't signed, I hope you'll like the next chapter, since it covers something you wanted to know! No, I'm afraid Keith doesn't get crushed by a moving truck, at least not in the next chapter...

Anyways! I'm really happy you've stuck with me this far, and hope you'll continue to do so!


	12. I Will Remember You

**The Chapters of Life**

Chapter Twelve: I Will Remember You

_I will remember you_

_Will you remember me?_

_Don't let your life pass you by_

_Weep not for the memories_

.

_I'm so tired but I can't sleep_

_Standing on the edge of something much too deep_

_It's funny how we feel so much but we cannot say a word_

_We are screaming inside, but we can't be heard_

.

Sarah McLaughlan, I Will Remember You

He could have sworn the walls _moved_.

He whipped around, breathing harshly, but there was nothing except the walls, cold and unmoving.

Feeling that icy shiver creep down his spine, he turned around, more slowly. Every little sensation he felt, imagined or real, was grating on his nerves, and his breathing was uneven. Why did everything have to be so god_damned_ dark… and so stark?

He strode forward, determined to get to the center, if only to get the hell out of here.

A movement caught his eyes, and cursing, he swirled around to face behind him, only to stare at a dead end right in front of him. The walls had cut off where he had come from, so that he could not turn back. He gaped at it for a moment in disbelief, then backed up quickly, as if trying to get away from the _moving _walls.

His back hit the wall and he turned his head in panic and shock. What had – but he had just been facing this way, and it was a path – and now there was a dead end at his back, and in front of him…

He was trapped.

"No." A whimper in his throat that he had not even recognized was growing. "No, no, no, _no_…"

_Would you like to get out?_

His hands clutched at the closing walls. His nails tore as he scraped the surface, shaking and screaming silently.

The walls were now only centimeters away from him. His breath caught; he couldn't breathe at all.

_Would you like to get out?_

His eyes slid closed. A vision played behind them.

_Two young fey princes, playing in the gardens, transparent orbs floating around them. _

_A mother, sitting in the corner, smiling to herself as she watched her sons prowl among the roses._

_A father, a king, who has just stepped into the garden. "Well, well, what have we here?"_

_Both princes turn to him with huge grins. "Father!" They both rush to the goblin king, who chuckles as he picks the younger son up. _

"_Have you been good today?" The king looks at the young boy in the eye, in his tiny mismatched eyes._

"_Very good," the boy promises solemnly. He gazes up at the king, his father, in open admiration. The stately posture, the regal armour, the cloak…_

_Just like him, he wants to be just like him when he grows up._

_The father sets the boy down on the ground, then pats the older brother on the head. "And you, have you been good?"_

"_Very, very good," he answers with enthusiasm. He gives a punching motion into the air. "I've been practicing my magic, and my swordplay, and since I'm going to be the goblin king after you, father, I'm planning on working very hard!" Grinning, he grabs his younger brother, and the two grapple for a moment, before he puts the smaller boy into a headlock. _

"_And me?" the younger boy gasps as he fends off his brother's hands from his throat. "What about me?"_

"_Nothing – " his brother begins, grinning wolfishly, before suddenly catching his mother's look, and swiftly changes his words. "Nothing but my most trusted advisor, of course."_

_The boys finally separate, both grinning at each other. The younger boy sticks his tongue out. "Wouldn't want to be king anyways, who'd want that boring stuff?"_

"_It's not boring!" The older boy indignantly turns to their father. "Father – "_

"_All right, enough, you two," the mother finally intervenes. "Stop making such a racket and go in. It'll be time for dinner soon."_

_Suddenly, the younger boy reaches up, and snatches something from the father's belt. _

_The father returns his attention to his son with a smile. The prince is holding a crystal in hand, staring into it. He looks up at his father. "What is it?"_

"_It's a crystal, nothing more." The father crouches, so that they are eye level. "It's clear – you can see through it – but things get distorted when you do, see?" _

_The prince is mesmerized by the glassy orb. _

"_Jareth, your father needs it back now, so he can go back inside and rest," his mother chides gently._

_The young fey's head jerks up at that. There is something wrong – something wrong – _wrong –

"_Jareth."_

_His mother's voice…_

"_Jareth…"_

His eyes opened slowly. His breathing came fast, harsh, as if he'd just run a hundred miles. He looked to his side. Both ways, before and after him, were clear now, no walls stopping him.

Something felt heavy in his hand, and he glanced down to find a crystal. He lifted it to gaze into its depth.

Abruptly, he dashed it across the narrow path, the crystal hitting the opposite wall and shattering. One of the shards cut him across the cheek, leaving a little wound from which blood seeped through. He didn't bother to wipe it away, instead walking, running, _sprinting_ down the path, desperate to get out.

_Would you like to get out?_

There were two doors in front of him.

Each one was graced by faded images on its surface. The image appeared to be like that of a playing card, symmetrical, so that one could turn it completely upside down, and the picture would still appear the same. A shield, with intricate designs, was in the middle, while a soldier's face with a pointy hat graced it on both sides.

He stared at them, not knowing what was happening, then tensed as he felt something behind him. By now, he knew what it meant: the walls were moving again, closing in on him, caging him. He did not turn around.

He refused to be intimidated by a goddamned maze.

He walked up to the doors. One was red, the other blue. He placed his hand on the red one, the one on the right, flat on the surface.

Immediately a vision flashed across his eyes.

"_Faster!"_

_The swords clash. The two opponents parry furiously for a moment, before one of them finally steps back. "Good. That's it for today."_

_The young fey prince takes off his mask wearily. "Must I do this? Magic does not require any weapon."_

"_That is true. Swords are useless with magic, as are guns and other weapons. Blade and bullets are too easily stopped with magic. However…" his brother suddenly lashes out with his sword, and the fey prince clumsily blocks it, throwing the mask aside and bringing up his own sword. _

_They cross swords for a moment, then the older prince steps away. "For now, your magic can't stop swords. And there may come a time when you have to rely on means other than magic – for instance, if you were going to fight someone who was your equal or superior in magic, having any kind of additional skill would come in handy indeed."_

_The prince is tired, but he listens with care. His brother will be a great king, he knows. Their father is a stern and mighty ruler, but his older brother will be a king worthy of the kingdom that is his inheritance. _

"_You were at it for long enough, you two." His mother enters the room, looking calmly at the two fey men. "Take some rest, and come back later."_

_Both of them grin at their mother. "All right," he says courteously, beginning to take off his own mask._

_A great king, a great queen…_

_A great queen…_

_A queen…_

His eyes opened, slowly this time. Lifelessly he stepped back from the door. "Why do you insist on showing me this, I wonder?" he spoke aloud, emotionlessly.

The labyrinth did not answer. It felt no need to answer to one who had no power over itself.

He moved to the other door, then placed his hand on the blue surface in the same manner.

_The fey king rubs hi__s eyes. "You don't know what really happened," he speaks._

"_No, you're right," the goblin king answers, just as quietly – but in a much, much colder voice. "You're right. I don't know."_

"_Goblin king-"_

"_I don't know," he snarls. "I don't know if what they had was love, even fleeting, or just desire – or just lust on my father's part, nothing more. I rather suspect the last. What does it matter? I was just one of the many, just one who happened to get lucky."_

"_You don't know," the fey king insists. Then he sighs. "But then – it's not your fault, that you never learned what happened, is it? It's not your fault that you never got to talk to your father –"_

"_If I ever did get to see him," the goblin king growls, "I would be too busy killing him for what he'd done to ask any insipid questions about whether he cared. He obviously hadn't."_

_The fey king's voice is low. "And what do you suppose your father would say to _that_?"_

"_Nothing. He'd be a dead king." Indifference._

"_Then you would be a lost orphan, who had just killed a king."_

He stumbled back, his back damp with sweat. "Why?" he asked in a hoarse voice.

The wall was still at his back, and there was no way out except through one of these doors. He wondered if it made any difference which door he chose. Something told him that his choice would matter; ever since he had been jerked from his bed and thrown into this laybinrth without so much as a word of explanation, the Run had been so complicated and sinister that he didn't think it would let him go that easily.

His choice mattered.

So, which way? Right or left? Blue or red?

Then he knew. Blindly, he reached for the door knob, and entered through the blue door, leaving behind the walls that were retreating back now that he had made his choice.

_Would you like to get out?_

The moment he'd stepped through, he wondered if he'd made a mistake.

He was in a dark room, with no light whatsoever. The momen the door had shut behind him, he could not see a thing. He froze, then tentatively reached out his hand to see if there was anything in front of him…

_Then Anna is standing in front of him, smiling so sweetly. _

_She had been his first love, hadn't she? It was so long time ago – such a long time ago – too long. _

_It had been when he still thought he was a normal human._

_They'd gone on picnics, hiking, and horseback riding. Her dark hair always flowed out behind her whenever they raced their horses, her cheek flushed. He'd loved her with all the passion a youth of twenty years could. _

_Her mother had loved Anna as well, but for some reason, when he'd confessed to his mother that he wanted to marry the girl, she'd pressed her lips and gone white. Concerned, he had not pressed the issue – until she told him two days later that he couldn't, shouldn't, ask her to marry him._

_Then he'd gone frantic, asking her why, why he couldn't, why, but his mother refused to answer, just turned away. He'd went after her, desperately, bombarding her with questions. Finally, he asked if it was because of his father, his father whom he'd never seen nor met, though he did not know why. _

_She had only looked at him, suddenly looking ages older, before simply saying, "Maybe."_

_It had infuriated him, and he'd demanded to know why. She'd never answered him. It was the first time the mother and the son had been estranged from each other, the two who only had each other, always living together._

"_My love?" Now Anna is giving him a quizzical look. "Are you all right?"_

_He looks up from where he was lying under the tree. There is a small smile on her face, the ring shining in the morning sunlight._

_His hand touches his own on his finger. He opens his mouth to answer. "Yes, I'm all right, just thinking for a moment…"_

He jerked back. It was only dark in front of him, and he was almost glad, glad that there were no more ghosts haunting him. "No," he managed to gasp out.

Anna had married another, after a few months, and she was happy at her wedding. It was only after over twenty years later that Jareth had learned why he couldn't, shouldn't, have married her. By then, Anna had had five children, and was a middle-aged woman who spent her days bustling around managing her household.

His mother, whom he had forgiven because he could not bear not to, was aging, her once charming beauty fading rapidly.

He still looked like a passionate youth of twenty.

He wasn't human. He'd realized it by then. He was something else, and he didn't know what. And he could only watch as his friends and acquaintances faded away with old age, while he remained a restless youth of twenty.

Except he hadn't, had he?

Now that the illusion, the dream, was broken, the memories were clawing at his mind, demanding to surface, and he fell to his knees, beaten down by his memories.

He blindly reached out again, trying to find something to grasp in the darkness. The damned walls had moved _again_, and there was nothing behind his back anymore – and there was nothing, nothing to be heard save his own harsh breathing, nothing to be felt save the floor beneath him that seemed to be falling, nothing to be seen save the memories that crowded his eyes –

And he wanted _something _to hold on to.

_He is smiling as he finally opens his eyes to the applause._

_He stands up, gives a bow to the audience, then closes the piano. As he comes down the stage, a young girl, young enough to be his daughter, is gazing up at him. "You play so well," she says in a wonder._

_He chuckles a little as he picks her up and puts her sitting on the table, so that they're eye-level. "Thank you," he says, mockingly, but good-naturedly._

"_How long have you been playing for?" Wide, innocent eyes._

"_Since I was younger than _you_," he answers, ruffling her hair._

"_That's a long time."_

_He smirks. "Not as long as you think."_

"Let's not do this, shall we?" he spat.

Something was boiling inside him; hot temper was rising in him, for the first time since he'd been dragged into the labyrinth. His harsh words seemed to echo forever in the darkness, but he did not flinch. "I know what you're doing," he spat.

_Would you like to get out?_

"Shut up." His voice trembled just a little, but he stood up on firm legs. "Shut up. Just shut up."

_Would you like to get _out_, though?_

He went on, despite hating the shaking in his voice, despite the great temptation to give in, despite the need to forget, because he was desperate to chase away the darkness of the _oubliette._

Strange, that he had to face his memories in a place of forgetting.

"You're showing me my dreams," he ground out. "All those things I dreamed of. Anna. Being a pianist, and fitting in, and being admired. Having a father, a brother, a family. Having my mother back." His voice choked a little. "All those things I dreamed of…"

He gave a short laugh. It did not help with the insanity that was probing at his mind.

"And all those dreams are without the goblin king," he spoke, as much to himself as to the labyrinth.

The labyrinth was quiet, for once.

"That's why I can't choose them – my dreams. Because I'm not the goblin king in them."

Silence.

"Gods know I don't want to be." His voice shook.

_Would you like to get out?_

"Shut up." He pushed himself up. "I'm going to the centre."

He took a deep breath, reach out with his hands once more, waiting to push his dreams away once more –

and found his hand curling around a door knob.

He recoiled, as he came face to face with a man who could have been an older version of him, a much, much older version.

"_I'm dying!" The man raged, scraping his fingernails down the walls in a wild craze._

His hand involuntarily went to his other hand, where the nails were still sore from being torn loose.

"_Help me, damn _it! Save me!"

_The labyrinth was calm. _It's time for you to go. You cannot be saved. _Though it could not be seen, its presence was nonetheless all too obvious._

"_I'm your king!"_

Kings can be replaced. _The whisper seemed to echo forever._

_Suddenly there was a burst of flames, and an agonizing shriek of pain._

He stepped back, horrified, as _the man slowly withered away, until there was nothing, nothing._

_The labyrinth was patient. It waited until the very last of the ashes were gone, then it looked, for the heir of the king that had just lost control of itself. _

That had been his father. He had just witnessed how his father had died.

He had no idea what its basis for comparison was, among all the bastards his father must have had. But he had been chosen.

He took a deep breath. Took the door knob again. Turned it. Opened the door.

Blinking, he stepped out.

In front of him was the castle. In front of the castle were all the denizens of the goblin kingdom, all watching him wordlessly.

They knew.

He knew.

A new goblin king had come into power.

* * *

And there we are!

I do hope you enjoyed this chapter, because it's partly responsible for the little delay in updates. This isn't the most edited chapter I've had in this story, but it comes quite close. Something kept nagging at me to add just a bit more, a bit more... and it still feels not enough. Not the chapter, oh no, I think there's enough jumbles of recollection in there. But there's a lot more of Jareth's background that I'm rather itching to write, but if I add any more flashbacks to this story, it'll just become ridiculous in regards to plot and pacing. I'm wondering whether I should do oneshot or a very, very short story...

Oh, and one more thing: Thank you to everyone who read, and who read and reviewed!! The response to last chapter has absolutely flabbergasted me and left me with a little heartattack. The only thing I'm capable of saying is thank you so, so much, and love you all! :)

Hmm, one last thing, I guess :P For every chapter I update, I'm planning on ranting/rambling about each one in my livejournal. So far, the journal's been more for me than anything else, but I guess I'm pushing myself to get out a bit more. So, er, here it is: you're pretty much the first person I've told I have a livejournal, and it may have some things that might interest you if you like this story! I'll be careful not to put any spoilers, but if you feel like wasting a few minutes of your time, come over and play! My ID is the same - idnh-azuresky - and there should be a link to it in my author page.

Thanks again! :) Hope you'll continue reading this story!


	13. Collide

...why, hello there. It's been a while, hasn't it? _(Sorry!! Sorry!!! SORRY!!!) _

* * *

**The Chapters of Life**

Chapter Thirteen: Collide

_Even the best fall down sometimes_

_Even the wrong words seem to rhyme_

_Out of the doubt that fills my mind_

_I somehow find _

_You and I collide_

Howie Day, Collide

She had had many "Days", the kind that is always spelt with a capital D and is always spoken with either a longing sigh or a painful tear, she reflected.

For one thing, there was that Day when her mother had left her.

For another, there was the Day Toby was born.

For others – and there were countless of them –the Day she had entered high school; the Day she had said good bye to her childhood best friend who was moving away; the Day she met her new best friends; the Day her first pet died; the Day Merlin first came to her house…

To be sure, such Days were common. Others had them too, she was sure.

But she wasn't so sure that many girls other than her had Days like the Day she had first encountered the labyrinth and its denizens, the Day Jareth had come back on her eighteenth birthday, the Day – or rather Night – they had kissed for the first time…

Perhaps other girls had Days of their first kisses, but not many of them could have been with the goblin king.

A smile surfaced on her face as her fingers lingered over the golden bracelet that she wore.

"Williams, Sarah!"

But today was a Day that she'd been waiting for a long, long time… most Days came without warning, but not this one.

"Sarah Williams?"

She lifted her head, filling the heavyness of the blue hat on her head. "I'm here."

"All right. Wuthers, Terry?"

The boy behind her murmured a reply, and the person in charge of all the shifting and chatty graduates moved on.

It was the Day of her graduation.

God, she'd waited for so long for this… and now this Day – or rather, this evening had begun, complete with itchy blue gowns and stuffy waiting room and filled auditoriums, and her high school career was over. Yum.

By sheer luck, Francine was only two people away in line, but unfortunately, her every other friend had a last name that was nowhere close to W and were situated elsewhere. That was okay, though – as long as she got to celebrate, properly, afterwards.

Although she had more than good enough reason to feel slightly anxious about _that_, as well: Jareth was coming.

"_You're coming to the graduation party I'm having with my friends," Sarah repeated, her eyebrows furrowed. Something was not quite right._

"_Why not?" he asked idly. _

_Indeed, why not? She couldn't really think of a sensible reason, though there was a nagging thought at the back of her head – she'd always been alone with Jareth, after all, and really, how were her friends going to react to the fact that she seemed to have gotten a boyfriend without saying anything?_

"_They're going to kill me," Sarah realized darkly._

_Jareth was looking out the window. "I wish I could make your last gathering as human as possible," he spoke. "I do. But time's running short, and I really do need to see the people around you."_

_Sarah frowned as she stopped her pacing. Something was _not_ right. "What are you talking about?"_

_He sighed as he turned to her. "There are only a few days left, Sarah," he said, watching her as if apprehensive of how she was going to react._

"_What are you –" her breath caught._

… at a certain time, that is, not before too much time has passed, under certain circumstances, you need to choose to be with me. I need to present to you the choice formally…

"_The choice has to be made," Jareth said, softly, yet flatly. "I know you've already told me how you feel –" he reached out, caressing her cheek with his hand – "but a formal choice has to be made."_

_He was still avoiding the crux of the matter, Sarah realized with a sinking feeling. She tried to make her mouth work. "Jareth."_

"_Yes?"_

_Questions swirled in her mind – why did he need to see who was around her? – but there was really one that she had time and nerve to ask. "What really happens, after the choice is made?" _

_Silence._

_She stepped closer. "Jareth?"_

"_We have to go through the labyrinth," his answer came reluctantly._

A hand was waving in front of her face. Sarah blinked to see Francince, who glanced at her then nodded towards the door. She looked.

There was a profound hush among the students. A teacher had finally entered the room, looking almost as nervous and excited as the students.

It was time.

_J Y S_

The Graduation Day was everything Sarah had imagined it would be.

There was the mandatory ceremony; the chaos of badly taken pictures, crying parents, half-crushed flowers, and hugging friends ensued not long after. After hugging her parents one last time, Sarah shrieked with laughter along with her friends as they began to rush along the streets, eager to begin their party.

The party, in turn, was everything they had planned.

There was the mandatory alcohol (whether they were all old enough to drink was ignored for the night); everyone talked over each other, more loudly than normal. Nobody wanted to be reminded that this just could be the last time, that this indeed was the Graduation Day, with a capital D.

Sarah lost herself in the revelry, and it was not until much, much later, when they finally collapsed onto the field in a park (not the one that Sarah was used to going; that one was on the other side of town), that she remembered, simultaneously, two people who were supposed to be there.

She half-raised herself off the grass, meaning to ask Thomas about Keith. She was more curious about Jareth – he had said he was coming, after all – but there was no way to ask her friends if they had seen a goblin king somewhere.

That was when she saw a dark figure from across the street, walking towards them. She watched it uncertainly, not hearing the swirls of half-drunk conversation that was around her, until the figure stepped into the light, stopping when he saw them.

It was Keith.

"There's Keith," Sarah said out loud, furrowing her brows. Had she seen him at the graduation ceremony? Everything had been moving so fast, and she had been so nervous, that she wasn't sure if she had thought to look for him or not.

It seemed to her that the blond boy had grinned. Then she heard him call out. "So here you were. Everyone all right?"

"That would all depend." Katherine had heard him. She raised herself as well, copying Sarah, glanced at him, then thumped back down.

Keith cocked his head. Then, just as Sarah was about to follow her friend, he called out, "Someone was looking for you, Sarah, a rather strange guy. I didn't know where you guys were, so I couldn't tell him."

Sarah bolted up. That couldn't be, could it? "When? Where?"

"Somebody you know?" Katherine raised her eyebrows at her. Sarah simply shrugged, stood up, and went across the street, leaving her friends behind.

"Tall, blond guy. You know him?" Keith asked when she neared him.

"I was expecting him, I guess," Sarah said. She glanced at him. She wanted to ask if he had been at the graduation ceremony, but felt it wouldn't be good if he had been there and she had just not noticed him. "Where did you see him?"

"Some way back. I'll walk you there," he volunteered. "Dark streets and all."

Sarah paused in the middle of starting down the street, faltering. "Um, that's okay, I'm sure I'll be able to find him." There wouldn't be much danger in this small town, and besides, Jareth would probably find her soon. More than that, though, she wasn't sure if she wanted him to see Keith.

"You sure?" Keith raised an eyebrow. "You know him well?"

"Yes," Sarah managed. She stepped back.

Keith looked into her eyes. A side of his mouth curled up. "Is there something you're hiding, Sarah?" he asked, in a velvety voice.

Sarah looked across the street at her friends. All of a sudden, they seemed far away, and she was acutely aware of every sensation in her body; the cold air, the boy standing so close to her, the end of her hair rising.

Her mouth was dry. "Not really." She tried to step back once more.

"Don't want your goblin king to see me?" he asked, a trace of mocking in his voice.

Time froze.

She stared. "_What_?"

He looked at her, serene and calm. "Goblin king," he repeated slowly.

Then he took a step in her direction.

All the paranoid feelings Sarah had experienced in her life, the feeling of suppressed air, of being watched, came crashing down on her. A chill ran down her spine. Stumbling, she stepped backwards, not taking her eyes off him.

In front of her gaze, his eyes began to change, until one was so unlike the other – until they were mismatched.

"Keith," Sarah said softly.

Without answering, he strode forward.

She jerked back, then did the only thing that her instincts were telling her to do: she ran like hell....

- Everything was a mumbled confusion, the lights that were passing by, the thoughts in her head. The strongest thought in her head at the moment was that she had to find Jareth.

…Immediately into a dark alleyway.

Her blood seemed to be freezing in her veins. _Why is there – where am I?_

"Wherever you wanted to be," a silken reply came from right behind her.

Sarah reacted with lightning speed. Her feet had left the ground, pounding away from danger, even before the words registered.

He was quicker.

Keith slammed her into the dirty brick wall, the darkness threatening to close around them completely. "Going somewhere?" he murmured, pushing her harder against the wall despite her wince of pain.

"Let go," Sarah bit out.

"Oh, Sarah." Keith leaned in, his cold breath ruffling her hair as he spoke the words in a relaxed, lazy way. "Sarah, Sarah. Don't you realize that everything you throw at me – every insult, every praise – is all reflected back to you?"

She did not listen – tried not to listen – even as his next words buried themselves into her brain. "Don't you realize that we're here, only because _you wanted us to be here_?"

"Please try to make sense," she answered, struggling against his strength. He tightened his grip on her, and she flinched despite herself. "Or let me go," she said in a strangled voice.

He leaned in even closer, his eyes never leaving her face. His mouth lingered by her ears. "But you don't want that, precious," he whispered. "Everything I've done, I've done for you – everything I ever do, I do for you – I move the stars for _you_ only, sweetling - all I am is a fulfilment of your very dreams."

_I move the stars for no one…_

Sarah's breath caught in her throat as she felt her body freeze in shock. But she'd been so sure, oh so very sure… she loved him – always loved him – he loved her back – not only because it was her wish, but because… because…

"And so you see," Keith's voice sliced into her shock, and she could only gaze at the face of the boy who had taken a step back, though still keeping his hands on her arms. "If this situation seems so cliched to you, then just know that you're the one who chose this, who wanted this – so badly – more than anything…" his last words were a purr.

Her throat felt constricted. "No," she breathed. "No. I don't want this – not this, not here, not _you _–"

"But you do," his voice was velvety, insistent. "You do want this. Not mornings of gold, not valentine evenings, not paths between the stars. You want a _villain_," he hissed the last word, roughly pulling her off the wall and towards him. "You want dark passion, obsession, the fantasies of the _night_ –" His lips caressed her cheek, a feather-like touch, traveling down, down, down - darkness had consumed them, finally, and the world around her was falling, falling, falling.

And then she knew.

"Get off me," she hissed, ripping free of his grip – or had he let her go? - and swirled around, swearing, to face his laughing eyes. _Why had it taken so long for her to realize it?_

"I have no idea who the hell you are," she said hoarsely. "But that – you're good. Always quoting, always insinuating, always implying that you're someone else – "

"Sarah," he sighed, as if amused yet tired by her stupidity. His teeth glinted in his smile as he stepped closer. "Did you think that I was your goblin king?" he crooned.

She repressed the urge to snarl, or even better, hit him. "You're not," she said quietly instead. "You tried to pretend, make me think, that you were, maybe, but you're not."

Keith leaned back casually on the wall. The darkness was still so thick around them, and Sarah couldn't see anything beyond it and him. "Only because it was your dream," he purred. "I can make your dreams come true, Sarah." He pushed himself off the wall, took a step towards her. She took a step back. "I can make any kind of dreams, fantasies, come true, just for you, Sarah… Sarah, Sarah – "

She stumbled back, snatched her hand out of the way just in time to avoid his. "Get away from me."

"No – "

"Get away from her," a cold, yet furious voice cut through the darkness.

Sarah blinked. Suddenly, the darkness was receding, and she could see where they were, now.

Then she was swept up into an embrace from behind, the arms closing around her so suddenly, but with such familiarity, and she knew who it was.

"Jareth," she gasped, trying to turn around to see him, but his grip kept her still, and she twisted her head around to see his face – then recoiled, thrown off balance. He kept her up, but his eyes, blazing with hatred, were focused on the boy standing in front of them.

It was the goblin king in all his splendour, not the Jareth who shared his past history as they looked up at the summer stars, who had come.

Even before, Sarah couldn't remember ever seeing him so regal, so powerful, so _goblin_. The dark armour he had on was one she had not seen before, not big and ostentatious, but sleek and formidable, as was the sword on his side. His clock swirled around them both, cocooning her, protecting her and keeping her out of sight. But more than his clothes, it was the power emanating from himself, making it nearly unable for Sarah to see his face for its brightness, and the way he carried himself, the regal posture of a king.

"You stay away from her," Keith responded calmly. "It's time for her to make the choice, and you can't be closer to her than I am – unless you want me going there, getting so close to her –" A smirk.

Jareth kept his arms around her. "You?" he asked in disbelief. "_You_ are the other choice? And," his eyes hardened, "how does a mortal like you even know about what's going on, I wonder?"

Sarah felt the shivers go down in her spine at his tone – the cold, inhuman voice of the goblin king, one she had not heard for a long time, for two years.

Still, she opened her mouth. "How do you know him?" she whispered, not taking her eyes off Keith. "How do you know about the goblin king? How did you know all that had happened in the labyrinth two years ago?" her voice rose.

"I'll tell you," Keith said, a glint in his eyes. "If you come here." He raised his arm, his palm up.

"_Try to remember, Sarah…" He whispered, his eyes not leaving her. Hesitantly, he held out his hand, palm up, as if offering something._

Sarah recoiled, only to find Jareth release her from his embrace. She turned around to see his face stony as he took a step back.

_It's time for her to make the choice…_

"What choice?" she whispered, watching Jareth. "What's happening?"

Before Jareth could speak – and he did not seem as if he was capable of doing so, just at the moment – Keith let out a short laugh, and her head whipped to the side to see that he had walked just a few steps closer, so that he was the same distance away from him as Jareth was.

_You can't be closer to her than I am._

"You didn't _tell her_, Jareth? Well, I suppose it doesn't matter now…"

Keith turned to Sarah, who was now frozen in spot. She did not know which way to look – on one side stood the boy whom she had believed was mortal – on the other stood the goblin king whom she had believed she knew better than she apparently did.

"Sarah. The Game that your goblin king over there has initiated requires that you make a choice between two suitors: the goblin king himself, and a mortal. Him, and me."

Sarah blinked. Suddenly, Keith was no longer a feral villain, but a teenager who attended the same school as she did, staring at her a little vulnerably...

"You always ran from me in the end, whenever we talked." Keith reached out to her, his gaze intense. "But all I've ever done was to give you what you wanted. You wanted me to be mysterious, enigmatic, someone who made shivers go down your spine – you wanted magic, excitement. I gave them to you. I gave you your dreams."

His words confused her, his look of pain carving guilt into her heart. She shivered. But…

"Sarah…" The soft whisper of the goblin king. Jareth was looking at her, only her, and he himself looked so seductive, so alluring, as a fey king might, rendering all the legends of abductions by the fey wrong, for how could it have been abduction, when no mortal could have resisted the lure of a fey?

But…

There was something else in the goblin king's eyes, something that seemed to stop her heart – such a sad love…

_A kind of pale jewel, open and closed, within your eyes…_

And then she was moving, without any hesitation, without even conscious thought of what she was doing, towards him. "Jareth," she whispered. "Jareth – goblin king."

The choice was made.

Longing, triumph, love. A world of emotions seemed to swirl between them, as Jareth reached out for her, his hand only a few paces away, and she began to quicken her steps –

and everything seemed to slow for a moment, and her breath was stopped, completely, as she dimly felt something strike her from behind. The ground was speeding up to meet her, and she let out one tight breath of pain, as the horrified expression of Jareth's face registered – and everything caught up once more, and she fell, hard onto the ground.

"_Sarah!_"

Trembling, she barely pushed herself off the ground, her arms supporting her head and shoulders, her knees the rest, and saw that blood was pooling where her head had hit. A dizzying sensation hit her, and she bit back a groan. "What the hell-"

A dark cloak was suddenly enveloping her, and she found herself in Jareth's arms, supported by him, and had to bite back another groan of pain. Unsteady hands pushed back her hair as a pair of mismatched eyes stared down at her in horror. "Sarah –"

She tried to focus on him, but suddenly the world swirled around, and she gasped out loud, finally the pain from the wound in her head seething through her body.

Pale with anger, he stood up from the ground, lifting her up with him. Sarah felt the pain dull a bit, as a cool, refreshing sensation – undoubtedly Jareth's magic – began to seep into the wound in the back of her head. Her eyes slid close.

A loud slam startled them open again, and she twisted in his arms weakly to see that Keith was pinned to the wall by an invisible force, his face a distorted grimace in pain.

"You." The goblin king's voice was soft, quiet – lethal. "You, a human… the human choice…" Something flickered in his eyes, and Keith let out a strangled gasp and writhed once in pain against the wall. "How did you learn fey magic?" His voice remained icy calm. "How can you _use_ it? How is it –" his entire body seemed to stiffen, and Sarah saw Keith grit his teeth against the pain – "that you managed to get yourself selected _as_ the mortal choice, when I haven't seen you approach her alone, not _once_?"

_What?_ Shock coursed through Sarah's body, the feeling that something _wrong_ biting at her, and she struggled to stand on her own, the pain much lessened. Jareth let her down to her feet, but kept one arm firmly around her, pressing her to him. She licked her lips, her mouth dry, as she began to speak, almost afraid, "Jareth – "

"Sarah," he said tightly, not taking his eyes off the boy in front of them, "I've never let you out of my sight – or rather, my power. I marked you long time ago, with the bracelet that had my magic in it. That boy did not spend enough time in your physical presence to instill enough of an impression into your mind for the labyrinth to recognize him as the other choice. Yet it did. _How_?"

"But he did," Sarah said, staring up at Jareth, slightly worried that he would take offence at what she was about to say. "I met him, sometimes, after school…" she trailed off, feeling that nagging sense that _something _was wrong.

Jareth's grim expression seemed to prove that. "You never did," he repeated. "Even if I wasn't physically watching you, my magic was with you, always – you were fey-marked."

"_Listen_," a voice rasped, and both their attention was snapped back to Keith, who was breathing heavily as he pushed himself off the wall. His eyes blazed as he grated, "Listen, to me – for a moment –"

"Stay there," Jareth snarled, at the same time Sarah began, "Keith – "

"No." Keith ripped apart whatever magic that Jareth had left to restrain him – even Sarah could feel the violence with which the two magic battled – and Jareth pulled her a little bit closer.

"Stay back," Jareth repeated, coldly. "I don't know how you use magic, but I assure you, it cannot match up to that of a fey king."

Recklessly, Keith took a step forward. "Can't it?" he asked, his teeth bared.

Jareth pulled Sarah behind, so that he was standing protectively in front of her, even as she stared at the boy she had believed to be her friend, a human, a student she had graduated with. "Care to test it?" the words were clipped, icy.

Keith stood still for a moment, then suddenly magic _rippled_ between them. Sarah felt a growl begin in Jareth, and instinctively stepped back.

"I'm not going to hurt her, goblin king," Keith rasped. His eyes moved slightly towards her, and his expression took on a hint of regret.

Jareth was unmoved. "You already did," he said tightly.

"_How_, goblin king?" Keith was suddenly screaming at him, throwing his magic in their direction, which Jareth caught with unerring ease. Sarah felt his body tense as he began to prepare to draw on his entire power –

then the goblin king faltered, his face going still, as his body went rigid.

Keith stepped back, his magic receding. "How, goblin king?" he repeated, more quietly. "How did I manage to even get close to her? Me, a half-fey, who by rights should not even be able to manage what little magic I have, and her, fey-marked and under the protection of a fey king? How could I even have thrown that little spark at her head?"

Panic that he refused to show was consuming Jareth. Try as he might, he could not draw on all of his power, the power of the goblin king that resided in the labyrinth. Desperately, he recalled the times that he felt a faltering in his magic –

_He felt uneasy, as he turned his wrists, feeling just a bit sore. "I know the labyrinth enjoys being repaired thus, but I'm also getting strange, insistent throbs from it."_

"_Hmm." Harel looked sideways at him. "Forgive me for prying, but… you are in the middle of conducting a Game with a human girl, aren't you?"_

"_The labyrinth is getting impatient," Jareth translated for him._

But it wasn't the labyrinth getting impatient for the Game with Sarah, Jareth realized with a clenching of his heart. Something – _something_ was blocking him from the labyrinth.

Then he felt the human girl behind him brush past him as she went forward, her body shaking. He instinctively tried to hold her back – it was dangerous for her to be standing in front of him – but she ignored any attempts. He realized that it was rage, not fear, that was making her body shake so.

"Half-fey," she hissed at the dark-haired boy standing in front of him. She took another step, regardless of the magic that was stirring once more. "Half-fey."

"I didn't think you would be one to discriminate against mixed blood, Sarah," Keith said slowly, watching her.

There were tears in her eyes, and she didn't care. "What was real, Keith?" she spat at him, advancing closer, watching him stand his ground, knowing that Jareth was becoming even more agitated behind her – and not caring. "All those stories? All those meetings? If you weren't there – then what the hell really happened?"

Keith took a step back towards the wall, though he wasn't sure if it was because of the fury in her eyes, or because he was afraid the goblin king was going to act if they got any closer. He needed to tell them now, he knew. It was already getting too late.

"Your dreams, Sarah," he said, quietly. "It all happened in your dreams." His eyes flickered back to the goblin king who was now walking towards them as if unable to help himself. "You asked me how I had magic," he said, almost desperately. "Listen to me, please – both of you – there _isn't time._"

Sarah felt Jareth at her shoulder, hovering protectively, but he did not pull her back, and for that she was grateful. She was too unsettled right now.

"I know, now," Jareth said, staring at the boy. "Dreamwalker. _That_ magic, the ability to walk in others' dreams and control them, comes instinctively – I suppose that's how you've learned how to use the magic that you inherited – because part of it couldn't help but be used."

_He wasn't human. He'd realized it by then. He was something else, and he didn't know what. _

_And he could only watch as his friends and acquaintances faded away with old age, while he remained a restless youth of twenty –_

"_Do_ you know?" Keith asked softly. His face contorted. "Do you really realize?" he hissed. "_Think_, goblin king, _think…_ why the labyrinth is blocked from you, why you can't use it…why, goblin king? _Why_?"

Sarah turned her head, gazing at Jareth, but he did not show any kind of emotion on his face.

"_Think_," Keith implored. His eyes bore into the unmoving ones of the gobling king. "Think – who had access to your labyrinth, who besides you know its turns and twists, not the physical ones, but the magic?"

Then Jareth knew.

"_A rather literal man, your father, wasn't he?"_

_Jareth glanced at the fey king standing on the hill, looking down at his labyrinth in morbid fascination. "That's one way to describe him."_

And he felt his blood freeze.

Harel, his only friend among the fey kings.

Harel, the fey king who was like his _father_, who helped him come into his full potential as the king of the goblins after his run through the labyrinth.

Harel, his fellow fey king, with immense power and magic that were more experienced than his own.

Harel, the one who had delved deep into his labyrinth… because he had trusted him to.

"Harel," Keith said flatly. "My fey father who left my mortal mother a hundred and fifty years ago."

"_I don't know," Jareth snarled. "I don't know if what they had was love, even fleeting, or just desire – or just lust on my father's part, nothing more. I rather suspect the last. What does it matter? I was just one of the many, just one who happened to get lucky."_

_Just another half-fey…_

Sarah made a small noise. Jareth wrenched his attention back.

His lover had just chosen him, but the other choice had also turned out to be a bitter half-fey son of his former friend – a friend who in turn had been discovered as a treacherous fey king who was even now slowly cutting off his power.

He was going to _kill_.

And he didn't have much time left to do it. He and Sarah had to run the labyrinth before this day ended – and they couldn't do it when his labyrinth was jeopardized by Harel.

"Sarah." The goblin king swiveled the human girl around, so that he could see her face. She was shocked, yes, but she wasn't breaking down in tears, for which he was appreciative.

Her eyebrows furrowed. "Jareth?"

Suddenly his mouth was on hers, roughly, and only for a fleeting second. He drew back a little. "Thank you," he whispered softly. "For choosing me."

Then he was pulling away completely, and Sarah found herself trying to hold on – only to find a crystal pressed into her hand.

"Go," Jareth said, still staring at her face, as if trying to memorize its every line, every curve. "This'll take you to the castle," he said urgently. "You know how to use the crystals now – use it, and when you get to the castle, _get out._ Do you understand?"

"I don't –" Sarah tried to follow him, confused, but he stopped her with his hands.

"You'll find your way out in moments – you've gone through the labyrinth once, after all, and because you're not there to challenge it, the labyrinth will let you through. Once you get out, stay there, all right? Don't wander off my kingdom – as long as you're in it, you won't be harmed – but stay out of the labyrinth." There was still much left to be said – _but there was no time._

"What are you talking about?" Sarah asked, staring at him.

Jareth stared at her. "Promise me you'll do what I said," he said, his voice intense. "Promise me –" he willed his words not to falter, and mostly succeeded – "that you'll stay safe. Stay out of the labyrinth, Sarah."

Sarah hesitated, then nodded. "I promise."

"And _I_ – I promise I'll explain it all, later." _If I can._

Her eyes widened. "But…"

"I love you, Sarah." He smiled for her, then, even as he felt something twist in his heart. Then he turned to Keith, who had been watching the whole thing with wide eyes, and grabbed his shoulder roughly.

She saw the crystal materialize in his hand, and, realizing what he was about to do, ran forward, screaming - "Wait, Jareth!"

He and Keith were gone, only air rushing in to fill the vacuum that had been left in their absence.

"_Jareth!"_

* * *

So...*nervous look around* Who still even remembers this story? *winces*

I'm sorry. I really am. I won't bore you with life stories (because I don't have a good enough one for such a long absence...) and excuses. I'm just offering my sincere apologies, and my promise - for what it's worth, I know my history isn't exactly great - for this story. I _am_ planning on finishing this story; in fact, I want to upload the last chapter before the end of this year.

So... thank you so much for reading, I'm sorry for the long, outrageous wait, and please be on the lookout for this story once more! We'll just getting to the good stuff, as you can tell :)


	14. Under Pressure

**The Chapters of Life**

Chapter Fourteen: Under Pressure

_It's the terror of knowing what this world is about_

_Watching some good friends screaming_

_Let me out_

`Queen & David Bowie, Under Pressure

_The sun was dazzling, blinding._

Jareth stood on a hill, in front of a labyrinth. Keith was half-kneeling just below him, staring almost hungrily at the labyrinth.

_It wasn't his labyrinth; it was not even a true labyrinth in mortal terms. Rather than walls that lined a near-impossible maze like his own, this labyrinth was physically no more than a simple garden, a series of paths lined by hedges that led to the grand Northern Gate of _Lwenhyn_, a city in the kingdom of white shadows, ruled by his only friend among the fey kings, Harel._

His only friend among the fey kings.

"_If the labyrinth had snatched, not even the king himself can get you out of its dark heart, where you'd be trapped, bound tightly by magic that no one controls but simply exists and acts on its own."_

"_Let's put it this way: I knew I wouldn't be harmed because I did not mean any harm to the kingdom, to the city, or to you."_

"Have you seen your father at all, Keith?" Jareth asked, his voice lethally soft.

Keith twisted around to glance at him once, and Jareth recognized the feverish look in the half-fey's eyes. Keith licked his lips a few times before whispering, "Only in dreams."

Jareth did not react, though he was painfully reminded of his own origins. His mouth thinned. "You'll be seeing him soon," he promised him.

Then, without any further ado, he walked into the labyrinth, intending full harm to the kingdom, to the city, and to its king. He did not bother looking back, or even making a smallest gesture, but he felt the boy immediately follow him, agile and lithe.

The moment they stepped into the labyrinth, the magic swirled around them in excitement, its invisible walls distorting and closing around them. Jareth pushed it aside, making room for himself and Keith, and felt the entire labyrinth, the ancient magic that saturated the very air that stretched far across the entire kingdom, react.

_Time to go._ Jareth picked up speed, forcing his way towards the center. Behind him, he could hear the pounding steps trying to follow him. He did not slow.

Then suddenly there was a disturbance, in which the magic almost _keened_, and Jareth halted completely to turn back, only to see Keith recklessly tear into a wall, nearly getting killed by a counterattacking blow dealt by the labyrinth.

Snarling, Jareth began to reach for the boy. "You – " Abrupt pain hit him, _hard_, and Jareth nearly doubled over, and hastily retracted the magic that he had extended towards Keith. A chill settled on him as he realized just how much of his magic had been disrupted, and just how much power Keith wielded. The boy had glanced back at him, just once, before running with all his might towards –

The city, Jareth recognized then, the boy was running for the city, gods knew why. He wondered if he should drag the boy back – powerful for a half-fey or not, weakened by Harel's treachery or not, he could still beat the pulp out of Keith – but turned away without a second thought. He had mainly dragged the boy here so that Sarah would not have to deal with him, and to make the boy face punishment for all the trickery he had done. Now that Keith was trapped in the labyrinth, there wasn't really a reason Jareth had to keep an eye on him – and he had to focus all the magic he had at the moment on important things.

Like getting out alive. Like murdering the king of the land on which he currently stood.

Then there was no more room for such thinking and hesitation, as darkness descended, and he could no longer see the pleasant garden and its low hedges. Magic was thickening around him, becoming tangible, restraining him.

His own magic flared, pushing the magic back, making just enough room for Jareth to take in another breath, just enough space so that he may not completely suffocate in the dark magic that was pressing from every direction.

_The labyrinths weren't placed to protect our kingdoms for nothing. Their very nature is to keep evil trapped within it, and the evil has been only increasing throughout the millenniums… By now, they're saturated with evil, steeped in darkness. Not even we can say if one isn't innately evil…_

He gave a short laugh. Everywhere he looked, darkness hovered, longing to completely overcome him so that it may throw this threat to its king into its dark heart, the biggest oubliette, and keep him there forever.

His own magic was fighting desperately keep the labyrinth's magic an inch away from his skin, so that he could breathe and survive.

The fey king, the goblin king, caught in the labyrinthine magic of another…

He looked around. He had no idea where to go, except –

_The goblin king, caught in the magic of another…_

Because the goblin king was such a great threat to the king of the labyrinth, and because so much was involved – two kings fighting, after all, meant that two kingdoms were very well close to warring themselves, which included the labyrinths that were the essence of the power the kings held – it meant that Harel had to be in the centre, controlling the magic of the labyrinth, right now. Otherwise there would be no guarantee that Harel's labyrinth would strike out at Jareth's own, and begin a war involving all the magic that resided in the two kingdoms, which presumably wasn't Harel's objective. Presumably.

So Harel was in the center, he was stuck here, and Keith was gods knew where.

Well, then.

He closed his eyes. His magic flared up, a bursting of power that blazed, once, like a flame.

Then it died off completely.

Jareth felt the darkness eagerly cover him completely, consuming him, snaring him. He felt the magic he had contained in himself flicker, as if about to die.

He let it go.

His last thought before his conscious was completely lost was to hope that Sarah had gotten out of his labyrinth, by now.

_J Y S_

A flick of her wrist, and Sarah was in the throne room.

She gripped the throne, needing to steady herself. But even more than the need to fight off the nausea that was growing in her was the need to get out.

She'd promised, after all…

But more than that promise, something in her was screaming at her, telling her to get out, _now._

Spotting the huge double doors on the other side of the room, Sarah crossed the room in a jumble of stumbling steps and went out, coming directly to the outside of the castle.

Her breath caught. It all looked so familiar – it all looked the same as it had then, the labyrinth.

_Stay out of the labyrinth, Sarah._

She felt a strange sensation – was this what they described as a sixth sense? There was a heightened awareness of everything that was going around her, something that had not existed just a few seconds ago.

It very well could be the result of having just chosen to be the lover of the goblin king – the king who ruled the kingdom she was in now, she realized.

That new awareness was screaming at her to get out.

After a short pause, Sarah whispered, "Come on, then, feet."

She set out onto the twisting and turning pathways of the labyrinth.

_J Y S_

"I did warn you."

Jareth opened his eyes.

Harel was watching him, impassively. "The labyrinth is dark – evil. It _will_ snatch, and contain in itself whatever it considers a threat to itself, the kingdom, and… me."

"You also said you would not be able to help anyone the labyrinth had decided to snatch," Jareth said, his voice hoarse. He struggled to his feet. They were standing on a hill, far away from where he had been, far away from _Lwenhyn_, but still inside the magic of the labyrinth.

Harel stood where he was, a few paces away. He appraised the goblin king for a moment, then shrugged. "I lied."

"Indeed." Jareth kept his voice even.

"So you realized it, have you?" Harel said, just as evenly. "I'd sometimes wondered if you would, but didn't think that you actually would realize anything… I wonder if you had help?"

"Your own fault, for not keeping better care and notice of your whelps," the goblin king bit out.

Harel's eyes widened imperceptibly, then he shrugged. "I see." He turned away, as if not quite caring.

"I realize what you've done," Jareth said.

Harel was now surveying his kingdom, standing to the side. "Yes, we've established that already," he said calmly.

Jareth came to stand by his side, though he watched the older fey king, not his kingdom. "You've blocked the labyrinth from me – partially, for now, but the block is growing with time. And you've done it quite well – it won't be reversed by my magic."

"In all probability, no," Harel agreed.

"And," Jareth went on conversationally, "Once it's completely blocked, I'll have lost the title of king in all but name. The goblin kingdom will, in essence, have a king no more. I'll be back to being a half-fey – worse, actually, than what I had been before I became king, because I'm older now, and my mortal blood will be tugging at me every second."

"That's as may be."

A smile came to the goblin king's mouth, his teeth glinting, once. "So in order for me to live – I have to kill you."

A silence stretched out between them.

With a sigh, Harel turned to face him. "Jareth, you're in my kingdom, in my labyrinth, without a way to fully access your own power. Even if you had your full power, it's doubtful whether you'll succeed in harming me completely when you're in my labyrinth – the best you might have hoped for would be getting away alive. As it is, without your full power…" Harel shrugged.

There was a short, short pause.

Jareth slammed all magic he had into the fey king in front of him.

Harel blocked the magic easily, not even raising an eyebrow. The air around them was immediately buzzing, as the labyrinth was reacting once more to the threat to its king – but this time, _this _time it was under the king's control, and it did not leap to Jareth's throat immediately, as much as it evidently longed to.

"Jareth –"

The goblin king ignored his words. Instead, he reached back, as far back as he could, into his own labyrinth, grabbed whatever magic he could find, and drew upon it as he channeled that power as well into his attack Harel.

Harel kept up the shield, though he now took a graceful step backwards. A look of concentration passed him, as he began to draw on his own labyrinth as well, and Jareth felt the shield thicken impossibly, as every tendril of magic in immediate surrounding rushed to the king's aid.

He kept up his own attack, pressing as hard as he could, biting away at any slip that he could find.

"I didn't think it would come to this, Jareth," Harel said quietly, watching the younger fey king snarling at him in fury, in frustration as he could not get through the magic. His armour was beginning to tear away, his cloak ripping, his sword hanging uselessly. "You weren't supposed to realize it – you would have just stepped out of power, and my youngest daughter's husband would step in place…"

_Ah,_ a voice said at the back of Jareth's mind, the part that wasn't totally devoted to _ripping apart_ the fey that stood in front of him like the rest was. _So that was why…_

"In honest truth," Harel went on, just as quietly, as he began to push back, intending to end this now. "I'd rather hoped she'd marry you – but she was in love… some human boy… and then I realized that that boy was the son of one of your father's 'whelps', and I saw what could happen…"

Jareth was not, could not be, listening to what Harel was saying. Everything around him was beginning to press down on him, like an enormous tsunami of power, now, and he fought not to lose his consciousness, keeping his focus –almost there, almost there…

"No matter, now," Harel finished. He looked at the goblin king for a heartbeat, then closed his eyes.

The ancient magic of _Lwenhyn_'s labyrinth swept down to completely end Jareth's life.

_J Y S_

Sarah was leaning against the tree, on the hill where Jareth had told her what her task would be, two years ago.

She didn't understand what was happening, not truly, but the entire labyrinth seemed to be trembling, and she was feeling its apprehension and struggle as well… as if she was part of it now, part of the Underground, of the goblin kingdom.

She shivered.

Then a huge, thundering crack was heard, and the labyrinth seemed to almost sink.

She did not have nearly enough time, however, to recover from the shock of what had just happened -

"Sarah?"

At that familiar voice, Sarah whipped her head around, to find a dwarf staring up at her with a stupefied expression.

"Hoggle," she choked, then went on her knees to hug him tightly.

She did not let him go for a long, long time.

_J Y S_

As the magic swept down, Jareth felt his own existence _ripple_, as if about to be destroyed completely –

Then he drew back his magic, all his magic, which had been focused into one purpose as he had attacked Harel, and reached out, delving in deep into the magic that was trying to kill him, and _twisted_.

Harel recoiled, a spasm going through his body as his magic was _unraveled,_ and blood spurted from his mouth.

Feeling as if his body was about to be ripped into pieces, Jareth closed his eyes against the pain as he turned all magic back to Harel, whose shield was dissolving.

The older fey king brought the shield back up just in place, as the two forces crashed. The impact sent him reeling. It was only some time later that Harel opened his eyes, and stared at Jareth, who was also trying to collect his breathing.

They stared at each other for a moment.

"How…" Harel exhaled, feeling his magic scattered all over the place.

Jareth's face twisted. "You're not the only one who had been observing and learning when in another's labyrinth," he said, quietly, venomously. "When I was here, I observed your labyrinth well – how its magic is structured, how it flows, how it twists and turns." He took a deep breath, then straightened, sending a cold stare, his mouth contorting into a grotesque imitation of a smile. "Like any other labyrinth, once you know the way, it's easy to solve."

"_And besides, after the barest glimpse at a labyrinth, a fey king would know its most intimate workings."_

"Impressive," Harel snarled, a short laugh that turned into a grimace distorting his face. He shook his head, and the air changed again, as the scattered magic began to focus again. "However, even if you can find the way, you can't dispel it completely."

"Perhaps not," Jareth said slowly. Then he bared his teeth. "But next time you draw upon on your power, I can twist your magic again, perhaps enough to reach through your defense and _rip_ you apart." All he needed to do was find _one_ opening, just one. Perhaps others might not be able to, but weakened or not, he was the goblin king, and just one attack would be enough.

Harel's eyes darkened. There was truth in the goblin king's words, and he knew it. "I can also kill you before you can do any twisting."

"Try it, then," Jareth said.

Both kings were still.

Finally, Harel spoke. "Believe me, Jareth, when I say that either way, you lose." He shook his head. "My heir is in my kingdom, right now. Even if you kill me, you won't stay alive. What would happen to that girl, your new bride and queen, when that happens?"

Jareth's answer was a snort. "I know the problems you've been having with your heirs," he said, his voice not wavering. "The one you have now – how old is he? Two? Four? Ten? Much too young, to be able to inherit this labyrinth."

"Just go back, Jareth, go back now," Harel insisted, his voice an invitation. "You wanted to be with that girl… Go back now, and make her fey before it's too late. I promise I won't interfere while she's running the labyrinth… Then you two can be fey, and lovers together – and my daughter can be happy with her lover, as well. You did not want to be the king of the goblin kingdom in the first place. You can be happy, now…"

_Turn back, Sarah, turn back before it's too late…_

Jareth took a step forward. "I'm getting impatient, Harel," he whispered. "Do you wish for me to drag your own magic back together, and unravel the labyrinth completely? Because if you don't –"

Whatever he had been about to say was lost as the labyrinth suddenly ripped the very air in a shriek of outrage, a violent trembling of the magic that swept through the entire kingdom like an earthquake, cracking the very ground. Harel doubled over in pain, as if the magic residing in him was raging as well.

The magic tore at Jareth as well, and he could not find any way to unravel it as he had done before, as there was no order to magic now, just an outraged jumble to power – and through the confusion and pain, he contemplated just finishing off the older fey king, who seemed in no condition to fight back –

When something was tossed between them, falling on the ground with a thud.

The goblin king instinctively brought up his magic, then faltered, as his eyes caught sight of just what it was. Nausea hit him, even harder than Harel's magic.

Harel saw it as well, and instantly choked. "My gods_–_"

Jareth could not take his eyes away from the gruesome sight. "Is that…"

"My _son_," Harel did not even appear to be aware of anything around him, even as footsteps that were not the goblin king's approached them.

Bile rose in his throat as Jareth turned to the one who was now stopping just a few steps away, the one who he knew must have thrown it between them.

"_One_ of your sons," Keith said quietly, staring at the fey king. "Only one."

The labyrinth howled its rage, and the magic strained to tear at Keith, the murderer of its king's heir. The boy paid no attention, not taking his eyes off his father.

Pale with anger and pain, Harel stepped towards his son, on whom he had never before laid his eyes, not even magically. "You," he hissed. His eyes flickered to Jareth once before returning to Keith. "You're the whelp who told him, I suppose – you – my _son _–"

"I'm your son as well," Keith spat. "You just never bothered to even check on my mother afterwards – _father._"

"_If I ever did get to see him," Jareth growled, "I would be too busy killing him for what he'd done to ask any insipid questions about whether he cared. He obviously hadn't."_

Jareth fought to keep his balance, blocking the memory out with a clench of his teeth as the labyrinth called for blood, the blood of the treacherous son.

"_And what do you suppose your father would say to _that_?"_

"You," Harel said with contempt. He stood without any signs of pain now. "Anything of power you have is due to me – if you weren't a dreamwalker, you wouldn't know anything about magic – the very fact that you're alive is due to me, and my blood."

Keith glared at him with all the hatred of the bastard son who had wallowed in his misery for years. "_I hate you,"_ he hissed, his magic rising – his magic, so laughably small and feeble in the presence of two fey kings.

Jareth had had enough.

He strode forward, his magic surging with each of his step, as crippled as it was –

Harel flatly pushed back at him without even glancing back, his anger being focused on his son in front of him –

With a grit of his teeth, Jareth shoved past the magic, and before either Harel or Keith could say any more idiotic things, he pulled his sword free.

"_For now, your magic can't stop swords. And there may come a time when you have to rely on means other than magic – for instance, if you were going to fight someone who was your equal or superior in magic, having any kind of additional skill would come in handy indeed."_

Harel's magic was spiraling out of control, now, from the labyrinth's going wild over the death of its crown prince, and from his own fury – he was in no condition to focus, or face two adversaries at the same time, as weak as one of them was –

Jareth stopped right behind Harel, who was turning around with horror only beginning to dawn on his face –

_One opening, that was all he needed, one opening._

Dimly, he heard him cry out, "Jareth, wait –"

He brought the sword down.

_J Y S_

"Sarah, what are you _doing_ here?"

Hoggle's question brought her mind back to the situation like nothing else could.

"Jareth sent me here," Sarah said, looking frenzied. She twisted around to look at the sun, which was almost set, now.

"_Tonight, Sarah, it has to be tonight…"_

"He _did?_" The dwarf's eyes widened. "What – for what, Sarah?" He looked around, suddenly nervous. "Where is he?"

Sarah opened her mouth – then closed it.

She had never, not once, called her friends the past five months, she realized with a jolt.

She had never told them about her and Jareth, either – the strange things in her life, the bracelet, the book, the owl – not once.

"Oh, Hoggle," she whispered, and hugged him close, again. Tears leaked from beneath her eyelids. "I wish I knew."

_J Y S_

The magic itself seemed to fall apart as the sword sliced into Harel, silencing his words forever.

Jareth twisted, making sure of his job, then roughly pulled his sword free.

All around them, everything had gone completely quiet and still.

"Is he…" Keith's question died in his throat. Finally, the boy had the sense of mind to look completely terrified, as he stared at the sight of two dead bodies with huge eyes.

Jareth barely spared the boy a glance as he wiped his sword on the ground before putting it back into its scabbard. Testing, he reached for his labyrinth, and his magic rushed to his fingertips, a refreshing and awakening sensation, once again complete.

The labyrinth around them began to stir.

Jareth stepped back from the body. Time was still running out – he had to leave, _now._

A crystal appeared in his hand, and he prepared to turn it, to go back to his labyrinth, where Sarah was waiting…

"Wait."

He glanced at the boy who was staring at him.

"What… what happens now?" Keith sounded lost.

The labyrinth was beginning to mount in power.

"_You would be a lost orphan, who had just killed a king."_

Jareth spoke for the first time. "Run," he said flatly. "As fast as you can."

The labyrinth's magic rose to claim the wayward son who had just been responsible for the death of its royal family, overcoming the boy easily.

The sinner had to pay.

Leaving behind the screaming boy, Jareth transported himself to his kingdom.

* * *

I promised, didn't I? *grins*

Well, hope you enjoyed this chapter. As you've probably figured out, most of the italics are flashbacks from earlier chapters.

I'm curious now... how do you feel about Keith? I know he was hated before for getting between Sarah and Jareth *grins* but it was revealed last chapter that he's not just an evil character trying to mess up their lives... or, you know, at least not romantically... then we come to this chapter. Who thinks he should still be flattened under a bus?

Anyways, thank you for reading! Cheers! :)


	15. In Dreams

**The Chapters of Life**

Chapter Fifteen: In Dreams

_In the darkness I hear a call_

_Calling me there _

_I will go there_

_And back again_

In Dreams (The Lord of the Rings)

She felt the air shift.

Sarah raised her head from where it had been resting on Hoggle's shoulder.

Jareth stood in front of her, covered in blood. Black circles were under his eyes, and his regal allure from before was all but lost now, as he seemed to almost sway from exhaustion.

"Jareth," his name left her lips in a whisper.

Hoggle swiveled to face behind him. "Your majesty," he began, fearfully.

The goblin king ignored him. He held out a hand, towards Sarah. "Come, Sarah," he said forcefully. "There isn't much time left."

"Sarah?" Hoggle whispered.

She felt her throat constrict, from apprehension and fear and… guilt. "I'll tell you later, I promise, Hoggle," she whispered, before she stepped up to take the goblin king's hand.

Jareth did not bother to explain that Hoggle would know what happened all too soon. All denizens of his kingdom would know the moment a new queen stepped into place... if they survived the last phase of the Game, the Run through the labyrinth.

He brought her to the gate of the labyrinth with his magic – not the one she had entered through two years ago, but a different one.

"What happens now?" Sarah asked, still staring at him. She longed to ask him what had happened, had nearly done so, but the urgent look on his tired face stopped her.

He released her hand. "Now?" he answered, a somewhat bitter note entering his voice. "Now, we go through the labyrinth – and the Game begins."

Ironically enough, the goblin king's memories of the Run through the labyrinth were decidedly more sinister than those of the human girl who had wished away her younger brother.

"You mean, just go through it?" Sarah asked, a frown settling on her brows.

"You're playing a Game now, and the labyrinth won't let you through easily," Jareth explained quickly. He glanced again to the setting sun; time was running out.

A determined set to her jaws, Sarah lifted her head, just a little higher. "I did it once," she whispered.

"So did I," Jareth answered quietly. He reached out for her, pulling her into his embrace once, tightly. He rested his forehead on her head, breathing in her scent. "When you're in there, Sarah," he whispered, "Don't forget me."

"Jareth?" she tried to look up, and he released her just a little, to look into her eyes.

"Trust me," Jareth said, trying to ingrain his words into her mind, to depart some of the feelings swirling inside him to the girl. "Never lose your trust in me," he repeated, staring at her.

Sarah shook her head, slowly. "I won't."

"Then go." Jareth released her, then pushed her towards the gate. He took a deep breath. "The Game begins," he said in a clear voice.

The gate opened.

With one glance backwards, Sarah stepped through.

"See you at the castle," Jareth called out, a confidence he did not feel in his voice.

Sarah gave him a fleeting smile, before she was swallowed up by the labyrinth.

It was his turn, now.

He crossed the threshold without hesitation, but with one name ringing in his mind.

_J Y S_

That wall _moved,_ he was sure of it.

His lips thinning, he was harshly reminded of the time he was here last – when –

_No._ The thoughts fell away easily as he strode forward.

As sinister as his surroundings were, as lethal as his situation was, he knew Sarah's was threefold more dangerous. _He_ only needed to pass the Game of the lover.

_J Y S_

She had done this many times before.

All right, so that was a tiny bit of a lie. She'd done this _once._ And succeeded, Sarah reminded herself firmly, even as she felt everything around her darken.

The eyes on the wall were swiveling to focus on her, and the gaze was cruel. She kept her head up, even as she cursed Jareth for dragging her into this with little preparation; she didn't know that ignorance was an essential part of the test.

Suddenly, she felt her steps falter, though they had not even when darkness had slowly descended on her.

"The walls," she said, in wonder that had a pinch of fear, trying to drown out that fear with the sound of her voice. "The walls are _glowing._"

"Well, you hadn't expected them to just lie there without doing anything, did you? This _is_ the labyrinth of the goblin kingdom."

Sarah turned around so quickly that she nearly lost balance. She flinched away from the wall, not wanting to touch its eery glow for some reason, and searched frantically for whoever had spoken. "I wasn't _expecting_ anyone to answer me back," she replied, just a little tersely.

A figure stepped out from the shadows, into where the glow of the wall flitted across it better, and Sarah now saw that it was a young girl.

"Well, you can't expect me to not say anything back after you've spoken," the girl said, with a sudden crooked smile.

Sarah felt herself relax. She had made friends in the labyrinth before, and they had been crucial in rescuing Toby. Maybe this time, it would be like that, too. "I'm sorry, I don't know your name," she said, smiling as best as she could at the younger girl.

"M'name's Eliot," the girl said, grinning at her as friendly as she had done. "Just Eli, or El will do, though. At least, that's what all the boys in my school call me. Said it sounded more like a boy's name that way."

Sarah felt her smile become warmer. She hadn't been so sure of her befriending skills – it had been years ago, when she was still willing to trust and didn't know any better (or was it that she _knew better_ then?) that she had been able to make friends so easily – but as surprising as the girl's appearance had been, she found it not hard at all to befriend this girl. "Would you have preferred to be a boy?" she asked.

"Oh yes," Eliot said, immediately. Her teeth flashed in the green light, but as they turned and began to walk, Sarah wasn't so afraid of the glow any more. "Boys get to have so much fun. 'sides, most of my friends are guys, and I'd fit in better if I was a boy."

"Well, Eliot's a pretty boyish name, too," Sarah offered, then frowned as they reached a fork in the path. "Do you know which way you're headed?" Her frown deepened. "What _are_ you doing here, by the way?"

The younger girl looked quickly at her then looked away, biting her lips. "I... I'm looking for my mother," she whispered, then seemed embarrassed of her own weakness as she shook her head, hard.

Sarah felt sudden pity and curiosity for this girl. "Your mother?" she asked kindly, leaning down slightly.

"Yes." The younger girl peered up at her closely then, and Sarah tried not to flinch as the light played across Eliot's face once more, illuminating it. Will the darkness _never_ end? "Help me find her?" Eliot asked, a little awkwardly. "Her name's Sarah."

Sarah felt her body freeze, though it must be – as she tried to convince herself repeatedly –_ a_ _coincidence. _"That's funny," she said, with a little laugh, "My name's Sarah, too."

It must have been her imagination that made Eliot's face appear so inhuman as the younger girl replied, "That _is_ funny." Her gaze on Sarah was intense and unbearable.

"So, erm, any idea where your mother might be?" Sarah asked, trying hard not to show any of her sudden nerves, as she straightened and began to look away – _not_ because she couldn't bear to look at the girl any more, she told her severely.

"I don't know," Eliot said, quietly. "I think I know who you are now, though."

Sarah's mind was racing as she slowly turned back to the girl. And oh stars, the girl looked nothing like a girl any more, even though her physical appearance seemed to have not changed _at all_, because now there was something ancient in the way Eliot was gazing at her, and it was _most definitely not _due to the glow.

"What... do you mean?" Sarah spoke, desperately through her deadened lips.

"My mother used to tell me stories," Eliot said, in that same toneless, ancient voice. "Of the goblin king. Of babies wished away. It was a story she told me, when I was much younger, as I sat in her lap and we huddled together, trying to protect ourselves. She told me of the goblin kingdom, filled with mischievous but happy creatures, and we used to imagine that we could go there just on a wish, and walk around the labyrinth and the city..."

The younger girl paused, briefly. "It was a story that came from a book that her mother had given her. And my grandmother had gotten it from a high school friend."

"Stop," Sarah wished, hating that she couldn't listen, hating that more and more – she knew what the next words would be, and _loathed_ herself for not wanting to face them.

Eliot's voice was relentless. "My mother said that my grandmother had named her after that same friend... that my grandmother had always been heartbroken her friend had gone missing on their graduation day. The friend's name was Sarah."

Her knees gave way. Rather than lean on the walls for support, Sarah fell to the ground, still staring into those ruthless growing eyes, as her lips formed the soundless word 'no' over and over again. "It can't... Eliot...."

She reached for the girl. Eliot jerked out of the way.

And now the girl was transforming, in front of her, into a grotesque creature, that was bending over her so sinisterly – and then she was back into the form of a girl, except that she was older, now, old enough to have just graduated from high school, and her face was _so familiar._

"Sarah," Katherine called, reaching for her, and Sarah hated herself for jerking away, her breath hitching in her throat as tears finally ran down her cheek. "Where were you, Sarah? I missed you... You were just gone... I thought it was my fault, I should have taken care of you better... we never found your body..."

"Stop, Katherine, stop," Sarah said, pushing herself up from the ground even as she slipped and slipped, trying to get away from the grasp of the other. "Stop... stop..."

She knew it wasn't her friend. It couldn't be.

But now Katherine was visibly aging in front of her, her hair greying, her stance stooping lower, and the wrinkles were rapidly forming on her face. "Sarah," she persisted in calling, in an eerily similar yet weakened voice, "Sarah... Sarah... where are you.... we promised to keep in touch, _no matter what_... We were best friends, Sarah!"

Now the old woman was sobbing – "I named my oldest daughter after you..."

Sarah felt her heart wrench.

It wasn't her friend. It wasn't her friend. _It wasn't her friend._ It was some sick, twisted _game_ that the labyrinth had cooked up, like the Bog of Eternal Stench, only so much more horrible...

But was it? As she watched the old Katherine, blindly reaching for her with her wrinkled hands, as she choked back the tears as Katherine kept missing, not even knowing where to look in her old age, she felt something in her break.

If she stayed with Jareth, was _this_ what was going to happen? Was she going to stay in the labyrinth, to never see _any_ of them again?

"Indeed," a hard voice spoke just behind her, and Sarah flinched away, to find Eliot, staring at her with a flat gaze. Behind Sarah, Katherine was still stumbling around. "For you will become fey, and immortal – ah, I see Jareth hadn't told you yet, that's good – and you will see them age, and you will see them miss you, and you will see them _die._"

And now she was being crowded, with all-too-solid ghosts enveloping her, and she felt herself choke, but she knew that she could not resist –

"Sarah," a young boy who _had_ to be Toby was calling for her, reaching out his still-baby fingers, tears drooping down his long eyelashes, "Sarah, Sarah, sister – why did you leave me? Why no more bedtime stories? Why leave?"

"My dear girl," her father was saying, fondly, even as he wiped away a tear and tucked an old picture into his shirt pocket, before straightening himself. He stumbled, froze on the spot, then began to weep, in earnest, for his lost daughter.

"We were just beginning to be more than friends," Karen was calling, pale-facedly, in the empty room her sometimes too-willful step-daughter had occupied. "We were finally mother and daughter... I looked forward to the Sunday calls once you were in university... We were going to plan your wedding together... Sarah...."

Francine, sobbing into Thomas' chest, who was teary-eyed himself, as they stood in front of the dark, dark coffin...

Eric, who dropped his dish onto the floor, shattering everything, as he stared at his father, who was telling him that his childhood neighbour and old crush had disappeared...

Linda, standing motionless in her living room, holding the phone in her dead hand, before falling onto the carpet, unconscious.... who had flown home immediately, even without her beloved star boyfriend by her side, to hiss and thrash at both Robert and Karen before finally collapsing on her daughter's old bed, sobbing as the three of them held each other close, sharing the pain...

Everything and everyone was crowding around her, calling out – "Sarah, Sarah, Sarah..."

And she couldn't breathe, she couldn't think, she couldn't _do_ anything other than stand there and be assaulted, sobbing along with each of them, finally realizing what her actions in the labyrinth would mean: a painful farewell to all of them, and a lasting scar to each of them.

Eliot, forgotten, stepped back, leaning against the door, watching with cold eyes at the girl being swamped by the ghosts in her life. The more friends the girl had, Eliot mused, the more painful it was for her to pass the test. Accepting the new meant letting go of the old.

Finally, Sarah made eye contact with Katherine, who was standing in front of her with blind eyes, still reaching out. "I'm sorry," the girl finally whispered.

I'm sorry, that I hurt you all so much.

I'm sorry, that I can't do anything more.

I'm sorry, that I've permanently chosen this path.

Gradually, but slowly, the solid ghosts calmed. Now they were all looking at her, but without saying anything, and Sarah could suddenly breathe, could suddenly look at each of them and give all of them a teary smile. "I'm sorry," she whispered to each of them.

Then, without hesitating, she stepped forward, and hugged the old Katherine tightly, without any reserve. "I love you," Sarah whispered. "I love you all. I... just..." Tears finally overcame her then.

All was quiet. Then Katherine leaned back, and it was the young girl just starting in her life that Sarah had left less than half a day ago, though the wisdom in her eyes seemed to speak of her ancient age. "Remember that," Katherine said, and smiled so lovingly at her best friend. "Remember your past, remember your friends. Remember your mortal life, how you lived like tomorrow could be your last, how you gave your life everything because it was the only chance that you had."

Then she blinked, and now she was back to just the simple human girl, whose eyes held only her less than twenty years of experience. She smiled at her friend. "Don't forget us, Sarah."

"Never," Sarah vowed, and the girls hugged, tightly, again.

Eliot quirked an eyebrow, as she slowly pushed herself off the wall. Sarah hadn't even noticed that the darkness had receded, the girl noted wryly, and that the walls had stopped their ominous glow.

Toby suddenly pulled on her jeans, and Sarah broke away from Katherine with a small laugh that sounded closer to a sob to pick her baby brother up. The young boy twisted in her grasp, then suddenly looked on her solemnly. "But this isn't good-bye?" he asked, seriously. "You'll come back? To see me? And read me bedtime stories?"

Everyone had gone still, and Sarah, who did not know any of the rules, did not know what was going to happen in the next few seconds, let alone in the next fifty-something years, opened her mouth, then closed it.

Then she nodded, confidently, at her younger brother. "Of course," she said, without any trace of uncertainty in her voice. "Of course I'll come back to see you – all of you," she added, as she looked around at her family and friends.

"_No!"_ The cry was sharp enough for everyone present to flinch. Furious, Eliot threw herself at the crowd, which parted easily for the girl, scattering until they stood next to Sarah, who was still holding Toby close as she faced Eliot.

The smaller girl pointed at Sarah, and none could doubt the power in her, the ancient magic that stank of evil, as she opened her mouth and grinned most horribly. "No," the girl rasped. "No seeing them. You become fey, you become immortal – _you stay here_. You won't be able to sustain yourself in the Aboveground for longer than a _second_ during your first century, and everyone you knew will have died off in that time. _You will not see them again_," Eliot seethed.

For a moment, it seemed as though Sarah had paled, and Eliot's grin widened, but then Sarah stepped forward, her head held high. "I'll just learn how to stay Aboveground more quickly," she said, almost disdainfully. "Or I'll invite any of them down here." Toby nodded enthusiastically.

"No," Eliot growled. "You can't show them magic like that – no,you can't_, you can't!_"

There was a crestfallen silence.

Linda suddenly stepped forward, and Eliot's eyes widened – what was the ghost doing, moving of her own free will? "Listen here," the actress said, sharply, "if my daughter says that she wants to invite me back here, she very well bloody will, got that?"

Others were now speaking up. "Yeah," Thomas said, at the same time as Katherine squeezed Sarah's shoulder, glaring over at Eliot with a look that had crushed many a bully who had even thought of hurting Sarah during their high school years. Still more were adding their voice to Sarah's cause, and Eliot watched with growing horror as their voice gained power, rather than the opposite.

And amidst all of it, Sarah looked directly at Eliot. "I can," she said, quietly, confidently.

Eliot felt two of three threads snap, and she jerked back. _There was no way... _no one_ had... not in all the millennia that the labyrinth had seen..._

But it was.

Her face twisting in anger – how could the labyrinth not see it, how could it have been so blind? The girl's power had always been in her friendship and the people she loved, hadn't it? – Eliot produced a crystal ball, then threw it vehemently against the wall. Instead of crashing and shattering, the crystal ball instead melted into the wall, producing an opening. At the same time, the ghosts – or were they still ghosts, Eliot wondered, or had the girl somehow called pieces of their true selves Aboveground into them? – began to fade away.

Sarah cried out in loss as she tried to hold them back, but Eliot snatched the girl's hand and gave her a good shove, towards the opening. "Go, now," Eliot said through gritted teeth. "Before it's too late – your lover awaits you," she spat.

Sarah glanced back at her, the ready steps faltering even as she placed one foot into the opening. "What about you?" she asked, uncertainly. "Shouldn't you come, than stay here alone?"

Eliot stood frozen for the briefest second – and in that second, she understood how the girl had beaten the labyrinth before, how the king had fallen in love with her, how the power seeped from her very steps. She gave Sarah a crooked smile, and it was no longer sinister. "No," Eliot said, honestly, "but you need to go. Now go!"

With one last hesitation, Sarah finally disappeared into the opening, which closed right after her.

"Well, well," Eliot muttered, shaking her head. "Passing both the Game of fey immortality _and_ the Game of the goblin queen in one test, on her first try at that..." It was unheard of that any mortal had managed to pass _two_ Games in one test, let alone a first try, and that the girl had learned to assert authority over the magic of the labyrinth so quickly...

Suddenly, Eliot snorted. "Just 'learn how to stay Aboveground more quickly,' indeed!" She shook her head, a smile tugging at her lips. Then she turned her eyes eastward, where the king was. "Hold onto this one," she whispered, knowing that none but the walls of the labyrinth would hear her. "Better pass the third Game... or lose her altogether."

_J Y S_

Jareth, who was far, far away in another corner of the labyrinth, would have no doubt agreed to what Eliot had said. Unfortunately, he was unable to, just at this moment: first, he hadn't heard her, and two, he was busy destroying the walls of the labyrinth.

"I'm not really destroying you," he offered, as the next segment of the walls blasted off. "You should know better than to cage me like that."

There was no reply from the walls.

"Oh, fine," he said, irritated, even as he escaped through the opening he had made in the walls with his magic. "I'll put it back together – _later._"

There was no reply from the walls.

Jareth wiped away sheen of sweat that had formed on his forehead. No, he wasn't going crazy, and _he knew he wasn't_, damn it all! It was just that it had been... hours, since the Run had begun, and the labyrinth had done nothing but close in on him, until he choked on his own power.

That scared him more than anything, because it meant that the Game of the lover wasn't beginning soon, and _that_ meant that Sarah was going through another Game.

All in all, he planned to tear apart the labyrinth itself if by any chance... by any chance he was allowed outside without starting the Game, which would mean that Sarah had not survived the previous Game... and...

He shook his head. The king of the goblins wasn't going to be thinking about that _at all._

Feeling something approach him from behind once again, he turned around, preparing to _blast_ the walls once again –

And his wrist was caught by Sarah, who was staring up at him with startled eyes.

"Sarah," Jareth said, the magic faltering in his hands.

"Jareth," she greeted him, then glanced around, quickly, before stepping back. "Were you about to hit me with that?" she asked, staring at his hand, with a small smile.

He extinguished the magic completely as he studied the girl closely. There seemed to be an aura about her, he thought, that had not been present previously... as if she held power that she had not access to before. "How are you?" he asked, quietly.

She didn't immediately answer. Then she let out a tight breath. "How am I?" she asked, then gave a small laugh. "Ask me again tomorrow – or maybe a hundred years later. Then I might be able to answer." At that, she stared directly into his eyes.

"Ah." Jareth nodded, thinking that he understood. "So you passed the Game of fey immortality?"

Her lips curved up then, and there _was_ an air of newborn power around her, "That, _and_ the Game of the goblin queen," she said, smugly.

The goblin king felt his eyebrows rise. "Indeed?" Rather ironic, he reflected, that she became queen before becoming his lover... but as long as she remained both at the end of the day, he decided, it didn't matter too much.

"Yes," Sarah answered, with a quirk of her lips. Now she was moving around, slightly restless, glancing at everything and nothing. "So now what?" she asked.

Honestly, Jareth had no idea. He had always assumed that the labyrinth would be the one to lead the Games, as it had on his coronation day...

He bit back a foul curse as something came into his sight, walking towards them along the seemingly endless corridor. "Sarah?" he called to the girl a few steps away from him, in a strained voice.

She turned. "Yes?" she asked, cautiously detecting something in his voice.

Jareth faced her then, and looked at her, hard, trying to read every emotion that flickered across her face. "You _are_ Sarah, yes?" he asked, in a tightly controlled voice. "Sarah Williams?"

She paused, giving him a strange look, before licking her lips and saying, "Yes."

"Then why," he asked most cordially, "the hell is there another one walking towards us right now?"

Astonishment passed through her face as she whipped around, exclaiming, "What – "

The second one was standing in front of them both now, and _she_ was staring at the first Sarah with a horrified expression. "Who are _you_?" she cried, then her gaze flickered to the man standing beside her. "Jareth?" she asked, cautiously, "Why... why is there another one of me... standing in front of me? Is this another game by the labyrinth?"

Jareth sent a grim look towards where he knew was the center. "Of _course_ it had to be her, who doubled," he muttered, quietly under his breath. "It couldn't be _her_ having to detect which one is the real me."

Though there was no sound other than the first Sarah shouting at the second one, he could have sworn he heard a little girl laugh, somewhere.

_J Y S_

"...Jareth?" Sarah called, cautiously, as she stepped into the dark room.

There was no reply. Funny, she thought, she had been so sure that she had heard his voice the moment she had walked through the wall's opening, and she had run towards the voice, so happy to see him – because _now_ she could demand some answers from him, and she was going to _get them_, damn it.

There! Another sound. More carefully, Sarah stepped forward, inching her way through, until she could see some light. She squinted, then smiled widely, as she saw Jareth standing, with his back to her as if he was studying something closely in the wall. She crept forward, intending to call out to him –

"I know, curse you." His voice was hoarse, as if he had been shouting for hours – or crying.

Sarah froze, some distance behind him, still in the shadows, not knowing exactly what to do. Was he talking to her, or to someone else?

"I _tried_ to persuade her," Jareth suddenly spoke again, and there was such anguish in his voice, "But there wasn't anything I could do... I couldn't _force_ her, could I?"

Sarah stood still, not knowing what to do, realizing that he seemed to be speaking to himself...

_It is not the right one_. There was suddenly a voice in the air, though heavy with magic.

"I _don't care!_" With a scream of outrage, Jareth suddenly threw a photo frame that had been in his hand, which Sarah could not see before, against the wall, which shattered upon impact. Among the broken glass, a photo fell onto the ground.

Sarah felt her eyes widen. What was going on?

"I don't care," Jareth repeated, hoarsely. Then he shook his head. "She didn't want to do the Run. After all that time... after everything we went through together, she didn't want to do the Run. What was I supposed to _do_?"

_You did the right thing_, the voice spoke once more, quietly, and Sarah suddenly realized that it must be the labyrinth that was speaking, consoling its king. _It was the right thing to do, to let her go... but this new one,_ and though she would have thought it impossible for such a whispery voice, it hardened its tone, _is wrong. That had been the right one... and you let her go. We do not accept this new girl as queen. _

Her heart hammering, Sarah slowly began to back away, not wanting Jareth to suddenly turn around and see her. Worse than such a fear, however, Sarah somehow _knew _that the labyrinth knew she was there. It was as if the labyrinth itself was a presence, standing beside Jareth and patting his back, and shooting a look back at Sarah, who was crouching in the shadows.

"Why not?" Jareth gave a humourless laugh as he lowered himself to the ground, staring at the photo at his feet, before grabbing it and throwing it, out of his sight, away from him – "Might as well be her, as anyone else – "

And by some chance of irony, of the purest bad luck – or by the labyrinth's efforts, Sarah wasn't sure – the photo blew right to her feet. Trembling, she picked it up, and glanced down at it.

Immediately she choked, dropping it, and stepping back in horror. Jareth's head whipped around to see her, and his eyes widened.

Their gaze met, briefly, and she saw the madness in his eyes – while _he_ saw the fear and pain in hers.

"Sarah – " he took a step forward.

Shaking her head, she retreated, willing herself not to cry – she had done that enough, just before, and damn it all, she'd had good enough reason back then, as she was saying good bye to her friends and family – not now, she didn't have a good enough reason to cry right now, even if...

"You never said you knew my mother," Sarah choked out, "Or that you'd tried to seduce her, even before me."

Then, without waiting, she turned around and fled. She ran, trying to escape, escape, escape, even as the pounding steps of Jareth pursuing her relentlessly chased her.

Eliot glanced down, then turned her head away. So the girl _could_ fail, after all.

_J Y S_

He watched her with an expressionless face, coolly. He was out of the labyrinth; he was safe, safe from the horrors of the dark magic and evil residing in the labyrinth, safe from the images of his deepest fears. He stood on the hill overlooking the entire labyrinth, in control of himself and his life, as he'd always been.

The test hadn't taken very long; almost immediately, Jareth had realized that _neither_ of the Sarah's who had appeared were real. They were all just puppets of the magic of the labyrinth. Almost marveling at the ease of it all, he had gotten out of there, walking, before he found himself stumbling out of the labyrinth, somehow impossibly onto a hill.

When he'd turned around, the corridor he had come from was gone, and when he faced front once more, he realized that he was staring down at the labyrinth, safely outside.

And he could see her, inside.

She was running, away from the dark twirls of magic that threatened to overcome her, from her own fears incarnate.

She twisted and flinched away from the very air that occupied space in his labyrinth, screaming in terror. The very walls reached out to her and snatched at her. Her clothes were torn a little in various places, caught and ripped by the ruthless branches that just seemed to stick out at the wrong time. Her face was scratched from the rocks that came from everywhere, and wet from tears of horror.

He was out, and he was safe. She was the one in there, still unable to get away from her fears, her doubts.

And everytime another branch caught at her jeans, making her stumble, his breathing came just a little faster, as if in fear. Everytime she let out another whimper, screaming at the darkness to go away, his eyes closed for just a brief second, as if in pain. Everytime she turned another false corner, hoping wildly that she was on the right track, his feet took just a tiny step forwards, as if in desperation.

Everytime she refused to call his name for help, his heart sank bit by bit.

_Trust me,_ he thought in anguish, and with a twinge of guilt and anger. _Trust _me…_ forget what you've seen in the labyrinth… Trust me…_

He wasn't, of course, sure of what Sarah had seen... but from the way the evil in the labyrinth was giving chase, it was nothing good. He wondered just what form it had taken, just what kind of dark fears Sarah was facing.

Just what kind of puppet the labyrinth had formed, in the shape of its goblin king, to scare the girl.

And now he was beginning to wonder if what he had gone through – declaring both puppets, or ghosts, looking like Sarah as false – was the _easy_ part of the test. Was this part of the test, somehow, watching his lover in _her_ test? He was starting to believe that was the case, and if so, what was he supposed to do? How was he supposed to help her?

_Test the bond between the two._ Just what the hell did that mean?

Casting all doubts aside, Jareth shook his head. He couldn't be sure. He didn't know what he was supposed to do, or what she was supposed to do, or even what the hell the labyrinth was doing. What he _did_, somehow, feel sure about was the fact that he had to help her... but...

Stubbornly, her lips refused to form his name. He was left to watch her running in circles, slowly and slowly being overtaken by the relentless magic of the labyrinth.

_Trust me…_

"She doesn't trust you, does she?"

Jareth did not look behind him. His body did not twitch, or give any other sign that he was surprised by the sudden input.

"What a pity. And I'd thought you two were doing a good job, too, at this whole courting and loving thing."

"Keith," Jareth said in a smooth tone. "Don't you have your own labyrinth to be running like hell in?" He did not take his eyes off the desperate girl in the labyrinth below him.

"I do." The boy came to stand beside him, on the hill, and Jareth felt a rather childish desire to push him down the slope, just to get him off _his_ hill. "I am." Keith slowly turned to face him.

Jareth kept his eyes on Sarah.

"In fact," Keith knitted his eyebrows. "I think I _am_ in my labyrinth… at least, I know I was running like hell, as you aptly put it, just twenty seconds ago until I suddenly came to his hill."

"I see your father's labyrinth hasn't killed you yet for your treachery," Jareth said.

He did not miss the shudder that went through the boy.

"No," Keith said in a strange voice. "But I think it's going to, any minute."

"Good," Jareth said pleasantly.

There was a pause.

"She's not calling for you," Keith returned to what was presumably his original topic. "She doesn't trust you. A pity. I'd expected you two to make it, honestly."

"Would you like to go back to your labyrinth?" Jareth asked.

Keith was silent for a moment. Then: "Did you call me here?"

"No." His eyes remained on Sarah. "Your labyrinth brought you here. Or perhaps mine. Maybe both."

There was another pause.

"She'll make it."

"I see." _Now go away._

Both pairs of eyes trained on the girl.

"She fights for her dream, do you know that?"

"I'd have thought you would say, she fights _in_ her dreams."

"No." There was a sigh from the younger half-fey. "I meant what I said. I don't know why I said that to you, though."

Jareth briefly considered replying in that annoying, standard answer to such a question by saying '_No one knows everything, my son, not even you,_" in a wise, philosophical tone. Then another strangled cry came from the labyrinth, and his focus sharpened.

There was longer pause.

Then came a whisper. "She thought I was you."

Jareth did not move, did not speak.

"I'd never had so many problems in a dream as I did with her – or in real life. She was so adamant in her belief that I was you… and I don't think she was even thinking it, at least not consciously. But she believed it so ardently. Every bloody time I tried to get her to open up, just a little – every time I tried to charm my way just a little bit closer to her heart, she thought I was you. Every bloody gesture I made for her, every bloody dream I wove for her… she thought it was you, who was doing all that for her."

A bitter laugh. "You know, I think she wished I was you."

Jareth did not say anything.

Keith went on, regardless, his breath coming faster as if in fear, as if he could sense something dark and sinister creeping up behind him. "The first time I walked in her dreams… Well, actually, the very first time, you were there, too. Do you remember that? The ball? Everyone in masks, except for you two, the goblin king and the human girl, dancing in the middle, so prettily and gracefully? I was one of the dancers wearing masks. Whose dream was it anyways? Hers? Yours? Both?

"The _second_ time I walked in her dreams… that was a ball, too. I let her choose the setting and the man of her dreams. I wanted to see her heart's desire, because I wanted to fulfill it for her. I needed to know what kind of things she would like, so I could court her – " _just like you, I want to be just like you –_ "and become the incarnate of the choice of being mortal for her."

One word: "Why?" Jareth asked to the air in front of him, still, _still_ not taking his eyes off Sarah.

"And you know what she chose?" Keith did not appear to have heard him. "She chose a bloody mask ball… And when she found me, among the dancers, I was blond and had _mismatched_ eyes." A shaky, low, hysterical laugh. "And even then, _even_ then, that girl wasn't satisfied. She wouldn't dance with me. You weren't there, I don't think she even remembered you at the time. I was there, and I looked like someone from her dreams, in a setting of her fucking dreams, and she rejected me. Or tried to."

The goblin king remained silent.

"And after that…" Another hysterical laugh. The poised boy who had planned the murder of his father and brother and had manipulated fey kings was close to breaking down. "After _that_, it really didn't matter what I did. I followed the rules – I gave her the mortal life she could have had, would have had. No limits, because I could only court her in dreams, otherwise you would notice me…"

"_Why_?"

This time, Keith heard him. The half-fey stared at the fey king. "Because you were the only one who could kill my father. All others with the power to do so were connected to him in some political way, and wouldn't want him dead. But he wanted you dead, or at least powerless, worked that plan out so elaborately. You could have killed him, you, only you. And I couldn't approach you and tell you what happened, because then you'd see that I was my father's son, and you wouldn't have believed me."

"I see." He really did. Driven by hatred and need for revenge – _just like you, I want to be just like _you – Keith had found the only one who could have killed his father, and the only time he could urge the one on to kill his father… when Jareth first noticed the draining of his power and felt the betrayal and wanted to _kill_, when he was running out of time in the game with Sarah, too desperate to delay and hesitate before the killing blow.

And that was it. The moment he understood, Keith opened his mouth and gave an unearthly shriek, as the dark magic finally caught up with him and overcame him. He turned, desperately, and began to run, run, run –

Then Jareth realized that the boy was nowhere near his kingdom, but transported back into his father's labyrinth, facing whatever the labyrinth had in mind for him.

All the while, he was staring at the girl in the labyrinth, _willing _her to call for him...

_J Y S_

Sarah wasn't having the best day of her life.

Now she could add another Day, the kind spelt with a capital D, the back of her mind mused as she ran like hell. The Day I was killed by the labyrinth, and all because my bloody lover of a goblin king wouldn't tell me that _his_ labyrinth was going to come after me like this...

_Wait._

The labyrinth, coming after her.

Sarah yelped out loud as she tripped, and fell. She pushed herself up once more, but did not look back. She didn't need to; she could _feel_ the evil coming after her.

_It's the labyrinth_, she thought, frantically, as she continued to run away from the looming magic. _It's the labyrinth that's coming after me – not – _

The photo of her mother, looking so young and happy, flashed through her mind.

­-_not Jareth._

What did that mean, though? At the moment, she couldn't think clearly, but the significance of that fact stood out. She had been upset, at the labyrinth's refusal to acknowledge her as _the right one_, and at the fact that Jareth still seemed to be pining over her _mother_ – and maybe that had been why he came for her, she thought in despair. Maybe her mother had been the only reason he had _pretended_ to fall in love with her –

Linda was a commanding woman. Sarah loved her dearly, but also knew that her mother had accomplished so much that she could never do... _she_ was the one who had an acting career, who had the actors and models after whom her high school friends drooled over as her casual boyfriends. Why not the goblin king, then?

_It's the labyrinth that's coming after me_..._ not Jareth._

And after she had run, as childish as that was – it was one complex that she had never gotten over, Sarah realized now, that inferior complex to the woman she loved and admired so much – Jareth had given chase, except that it_ wasn't_ the goblin king who had played his favourite song on piano for her, who had held her as they watched the summer stars, who taught her how to manipulate crystals –

It was the dark magic, residing inside the labyrinth. It wasn't Jareth.

What the hell did that _mean _–

"It means," Sarah muttered to herself, out of breath, "that it's even more dangerous, because at least Jareth wouldn't _kill _me – "

She froze at that thought.

If that wasn't Jareth, but the labyrinth... where the hell was Jareth?

Who had it been, back there, staring at the photo of her mother, if that wasn't Jareth?

"Oh, hell," Sarah said out loud, finally realizing the truth. "Oh, _hell._"

And now she was _pissed_, because _nobody _had the right to dig into her deepest fears and inner conflicts, and so manifest them into beings to flaunt them in front of her –

She turned around, almost growling, to face whatever was coming after her.

The goblin king was coming to a stop in front of her, gazing down at her with condescending eyes. She really couldn't care less.

"You," Sarah hissed, "you have no right – no _right_ whatsoever – to do this, to insult my mother that way - "

"I assure you, I loved your mother," said what-appeared-to-be-Jareth. "I mean to insult to her in any way – "

"Shut up," Sarah interrupted, and she was dismayed to hear that trembling note, but she ignored it, blazing ahead, "You think I believe you? _I love my mother_. I'm not going to bloody hell allow you to – to drive me away from her, by – by some trickery and magic and whatever else you're using – "

Jareth was leaning over her, except it wasn't the goblin king anymore, but the dark magic of the labyrinth looming over her, ready to overwhelm her, "Oh, but that's not what I'm doing," it said, in a horrible voice.

"What – " Sarah felt her resolve waver, as she wondered if the labyrinth hadn't been planning on destroying her self-confidence through the image of her mother, after all –

"No," it said, and it swooped down to suffocate her.

She couldn't breathe – and it wasn't the choking, sobbing kind she had experienced before, when the ghosts in her life had clamored over her, but a suffocating that was even _worse_, because now there was only darkness, and it was seeping into the very pores in her skin to taint her forever, mark her as surely as the labyrinth had marked everything that had drowned in itself for thousands of years –

Then she remembered just why the hell she had been stuck there in the first place.

The labyrinth hadn't been trying to attack her weak spot using her mother at all; it was trying to drive her away from _Jareth._

Stupid, stupid, stupid, she cursed herself, as she opened her mouth and tried to breathe in air, even as only vacuum met her lungs and there was pain, pain, _pain _–

"_Jareth_," she called out, weakly, the call barely there, "_Jareth._"

Then she let go.

The next thing she knew, the darkness and the horrible _nothingness_ was driven back, away from her, as the _real_ goblin king knelt beside her, one of his hand reaching out to call the magic _away_ from her.

"It's over," Jareth was saying, through gritted teeth, as if he was afraid that it _wasn't_, in fact, over. "She called me – she figured it out – the Game is over."

"Jareth?" she called, softly, even as she pushed herself up from the ground, trying to stand, even as the goblin king briefly glanced at her – and contained in that glance was everything, was enough to ensure her that what she had seen was nothing but a bad dream –

And then Eliot was standing in front of her, and she was giving Sarah a rueful smile. "I can see now why the Games were so easy, for both of you," she said.

"That was easy?" Sarah asked, in disbelief, even as her mind tried to catch up to everything that was happening.

The smaller girl gave a slight shrug. "Depends on how you look at it." She still appeared so ancient. "Nobody died this time, did they?"

"I..." Sarah decided not to comment on that. Instead, she asked, a bit hesitantly, "Are you... the labyrinth?"

Eliot raised her head, and there was a strange, infinite echo to her voice as she spoke. "Welcome to the goblin kingdom and its labyrinth, my queen," she said, then gave a small smile before turning her head away and fading into the walls.

Then Jareth was beside her, and there was no more time to speak or think, no more breath for talking.

* * *

Whew.... That was the longest chapter ever. I think it was at least three times as long as my first chapters!

That, of course, is because in the beginning, I'd assumed this was going to be two chapters... but once I started adding and editing, I realized that this couldn't be split, not really. So I decided to dump this all at once on you. Now, of course, all my chapter numbering is wrong, and so I have to go and fix the names of the documents...

Only one chapter left after this, however, so that works. After all, there are some more loose threads to tie up... it won't be as long as this one, but there is another twist for you, which I don't think many of you will be able to guess ;) I did promise to finish this story in 2008, so watch for the next chapter really, really soon!

Thank you so much for sticking with me so far! I really appreciate all your words and support :) Not very far left to go now... Thanks again!


	16. Spread Your Wings

**The Chapters of Life**

Chapter Sixteen: Spread Your Wings

_Spread your wings _

_And fly away _

Queen, Spread Your Wings

A crystal floated into the air, over the land.

A wisp of air blew his hair back slightly. His white shirt was loose, and though he stood straight, his posture was relaxed. His eyes stared at his land, his kingdom, his labyrinth. His feet were bare on the cold marble floor of the balcony of his bedroom.

One flick of the wrist, and the crystal popped, its flimsy shards falling all over his land, settling everywhere.

Jareth flexed his wrist twice, then allowed a cool smile to settle on his lips. Yes, his power was fully back – his senses were keener than ever, his magic flowing more smoothly than before. But more than that, there was just a sense of… _more._ Whole. In tune.

He wondered how he had not noticed how much his power had dulled before. Fully back in power, in tune with the labyrinth and the land, Jareth felt more alive than ever.

Then again, he had had many things on his mind back then…

Jareth turned to face her even before she had reached for the handle of the window.

Sarah quietly stepped through the large window onto the balcony. Her face was pale and tired, but there was a certain glow to her, a glow that wasn't visible, wasn't human.

They simply stood there, the goblin king and the now non-human girl, watching each other from opposite ends of the balcony, the former leaning the railings, the latter standing in front of the door.

Jareth found that he had no words, not now, not after last night. So he simply drank in the sight of her, the silky hair let down loose and whipping about in the wind, the flimsy white simple gown she wore, the lithe and small body standing so straight and tall.

Sarah stared back at him, at the goblin king, his exotic hair just as wild as ever, his mismatched eyes never leaving her, his hands looking oddly bare without his gloves.

Then she took a step forward, then another one, and he felt himself moving to meet her.

The two met halfway, and before any word could be said, any breath could be taken, any thought could form, arms went around each other, tightly, just as tightly as the night before, but with none of the desperation.

Their lips met, almost carefully, tenderly, her feet tiptoeing and his head leaning down.

Long moments passed before the two finally leaned back, just enough to see each other's face.

"So." Jareth took a deep breath. She looked back at him, almost quizzically. He did not like the exhaustion he could still see on her face. "How are you feeling?" he asked softly.

Sarah considered the question. She wondered about the answer herself. "I… I'm not sure," she said. "I feel different. Strange." Her eyebrows knitted as she looked up. "I've changed, haven't I?"

Jareth's arms tightened even more around her. "Yes, you have," he said slowly, not taking his eyes off her. Inside, he tried to quell the growing worry, about how she might feel about the transformation. "Have you realized what happened?" he asked, not wanting to tell her right out and risk shocking her too much.

She looked at him with strange eyes for a moment. Then she turned her gaze towards her arms, wrapped around his neck, studying the difference that was tangible yet not visible to the eye.

_What's important is invisible to the eye…_

"I'm fey," she said quietly. She did not have to look at the answer in his face; she knew. "I'm fey, like you, like… well, all the other fey folk, I guess," she said, the slightest smile forming.

"You are," he agreed. He leaned down gently and gave a chaste kiss on her forehead. "And the goblin queen," he dared to add.

She stood completely still.

It was almost too strange to act so carefully around each other, after all that had happened last night.

"Do you mind?" he asked, softly.

She cocked her head. She leaned back far from him, though staying in his arms, supported by his hands, and pulled her arms away from his neck. She clasped them together in front of her, just below her chin, and watched him intently.

He let his expression ask the question again.

Her gaze flickered back down to her hands. Slowly, she pulled them apart.

There was a crystal shining in her hands.

She held it at the tip of her fingers for a moment, then revolved it once around her hand, much more quickly than she had ever managed before… almost as fast as he had done.

Her face had been frowning in concentration. Now she looked up, and he saw the mischief finally showing through.

"Do you know," she said slowly, a bigger smile playing on her lips. "I don't think I do, not at all."

A chuckle, amusement mixed with relief, escaped from Jareth as he leaned down for a more thorough, no longer careful kiss…

_J Y S_

"So," Sarah said, brightly, as they stood in one of the countless rooms in the castle. She suspected that the larger door on the wall led to the throne room, but had no idea to where all other doors led. "What do I do, as the goblin queen?"

"Nothing much," Jareth answered absent-mindedly as he cleared away the top of his desk in the corner. He wondered, briefly, if he should give a tour of the castle, but then dismissed the thought. Knowing her, he mused wryly, she would probably figure everything out – including the private office they were now in – for herself through her roaming, and probably more thoroughly, at that.

She walked closer to where he was, raising an eyebrow. "Nothing much?" she echoed.

Jareth didn't answer for a moment, trying to find something in the mess, then gave up. "You'll be regent of the goblin kingdom," he said, finally turning to face her. "You'll be responsible for many things – receiving other fey royals, who don't come here often anyways, and ruling over the citizens in the kingdom. That includes kicking the goblins," he added.

Sarah rather looked as though she didn't want to start kicking any goblins, now, and said merely, "Oh." Jareth, on the other hand, knew the annoying little buggers would frustrated even her –

Or perhaps now. She had always been full of surprises.

Before anything else could be said, the larger door burst open, and one of the smarter goblins came skittering in. "Your Majesty-s," it squeaked, and tried to give a deep bow, promptly falling on its face.

Jareth raised an eyebrow at her, nodding at her to acknowledge it. A good place to start as any other, he mused.

Slightly flustered, Sarah faced the goblin. "Yes?" she asked, with a hint of her haughty voice, honed from the years of practicing plays.

"A messenger," the goblin gasped, "An amba-ember-amb-embassador, from the kingdom of white shadows, _Lwenhyn_, has just arrived."

Jareth felt himself still. That was Harel's kingdom – when the fey king had been alive, at any rate. A new king, then, had been installed, he guessed, other than the heir that Keith had murdered. It was fitting, then, that the new king should send a messenger to the goblin kingdom; so much betrayal and blood had been spilt in the incident, and the exact nature of the relationship between the two kingdoms had to be determined.

Sarah, on the other hand, had no idea what _Lwenhyn_ was, and merely nodded. "We'll greet him shortly, in the..." she glanced at Jareth.

"In here," Jareth said, not wanting the large audience of goblins and chickens in the throne room. "Announce him in a few minutes."

The goblin nodded hastily, then squeezed its eyes and muttered "Here, few minutes, here, announce him, few minutes, here, few minutes..." as it backed out of the room.

Jareth couldn't blame Sarah for looking just a little startled as she straightened. "What was that about?" she asked, in a wondering tone.

"_Lwenhyn_ was Harel's kingdom," Jareth offered, watching her closely.

To her credit, she recognized the name immediately. "Harel... the king who, from what I could gather, betrayed you?" she asked, hesitantly.

Jareth nodded, grimly. "And Keith's father."

Sarah felt her eyes widen. Keith. She hadn't been thinking of him – but the mention of his name brought fresh memories of hurt and confusion. "Jareth... what happened, after you two left, and I came here?"

The goblin king opened his mouth. Closed it. Then he spoke, in a tired voice that Sarah hadn't heard before: "Harel died. And maybe, later, I'll tell you the whole story... but not now."

Later, when the new goblin queen understood the workings of the labyrinths and their magic, and the connection and relationships between kings and their labyrinths. Later, when years had passed and she truly understood the loneliness of being regent, of being queen. Later, when she better understood pain and death, and betrayal.

"What happened to... Keith?"

Before Jareth could answer – and what _would_ he have said, he wondered as he stood up and straightened himself – the same goblin burst back in. It triumphantly gave a bow, opened its mouth, and promptly forgot what it was to say. It looked uneasily at the two regents standing in front. "Ah..."

"The ambassador from _Lwenhyn_ has arrived, Your Majesty," a smooth voice cut in, then added to the goblin, less than kindly, "You idiot." The ambassador kicked the goblin aside, which looked relieved at the normality of it all and scurried out once more.

The ambassador closed the door, gave a short bow, and took off his hat, revealing his black hair. "The unofficial, but just as authentic, ambassador from _Lwenhyn_, the kingdom of white shadows, Your Majesty," the fey said, respectfully.

Jareth did not move. "Unofficial, but very powerful," he replied in a measured tone.

"Ah," the fey laughed, raising his head. "There's no fooling you, then, king."

"And it appears that there's no killing you, _king,_" Jareth's voice was still calm as he added, "Keith."

There was a quick intake of breath from Sarah as she stepped forward, involuntarily, then stopped herself.

The new king of _Lwenhyn_ flashed them a smile that revealed white fangs. "There are about five brothers plotting to kill me right now that I know of," he said casually. "Just as many kings and queens from all over the Underground trying to take advantage of the situation. The citizens are refusing acknowledge some by-blow of the king, who abruptly dropped from the sky, killed their regents and claimed the throne, all in one day. I think the labyrinth might hate me still. And I'm standing in front of a fey king, unarmed, who's older and more powerful than I am, and who might possibly want to kill me."

"I think you'll survive," Jareth said, wryly. "You strike me as someone hard to kill."

"Keith," Sarah said, before the new king could say anything in response. "What _happened_?"

"And the new beautiful queen of the goblin kingdom," Keith said, with a smaller, quieter smile. He nodded at her, respectfully.

He paused, then sighed. "I'm sorry," he said, honestly. "I do regret having had to deceive you, and attack you, like that... I know the whole thing wasn't fair to you. I do not, however," and his voice hardened as he glanced over to Jareth once more, "regret what I've done."

"Of course not," Jareth said, just as harshly, "you went from a lost little orphan to a king."

"And you survived a betrayal that you didn't detect until it was almost too late," Keith responded. "Saving Sarah, in the meantime, from facing a Run through a tainted labyrinth."

Sarah stepped forward, then. "All right," she said, with an authority that hushed both fey kings in the room, "What happened exactly?"

"Things were... a bit shaken up, in my dear father's kingdom, after Jareth left to go through the labyrinth with you," Keith spoke up, before Jareth could say anything. The two men seemed to be in agreement, however, about not telling Sarah every little gruesome detail about what had happened. "I don't know if my father's labyrinth saw me as the rightful challenger to his heir, or if it just wanted to kill me – "

"Probably both," Jareth interrupted.

"Yes, well..." Keith was visibly pale now, possibly remembering his Run through the labyrinth. "In any case... I survived, and the next thing I know, I have five furious brothers whom I didn't know existed hitherto after my blood, for stealing away their inheritance. You two..." he paused, then shrugged. "You two are the only ones I know, in the Underground."

Jareth tilted his head, in an avian way. "You don't know anyone?" he asked, skeptically. "You haven't met and befriended anyone through walking through their dreams, much like the way you did with Sarah here?"

"I still don't really understand that, by the way," the queen put in.

The look that Keith directed at the two of them, then, was disarmingly open and honest. "Believe me when I say I wasn't planning on this," he said. "I just wanted revenge. I never asked for any of this. When I managed to walk in the dreams of anyone... the only thing weighing in my mind was how to meet my father. That was how I entered the dream you two had, long ago, and formed my plans. That was all I did."

Sarah started, finally realizing how Keith had known the dream of the crystal ball from so long ago.

"So," Jareth said, slowly, trying to judge the situation, "what are you here for, ambassador?" He did owe the kid a few things, Jareth wasn't going to deny that; he was damned if he was going to _help_ the new king, however.

"Peace," Keith said. He was addressing both of them, now. "Not quite an alliance, no, I know that's impossible. But there are many who believe the goblin king should be punished for what he did, and some of my dearest brothers – or sisters – may get the inkling that avenging Harel's death may ensure them enough popularity to dethrone me. I will straighten out the family business, and ensure that there is no attack on the goblin kingdom or its king – " and at that moment, Keith appeared more fey than he ever had – "if, in return, you do not make attempts at _my_ kingdom nor forge alliances with those who wish to do so."

Jareth considered it without saying anything, if only because he wanted to put Keith on the spot for a bit longer. There was no reason he shouldn't agree; it would keep the trouble out of his kingdom for long enough for Sarah to become used to being queen, and his policy had always been isolationist, in any case.

"Agreed," Sarah said, quietly but unfalteringly, before Jareth could say the same thing, "but only if you come, in short time, to a reception that will inevitably be held in the goblin kingdom to welcome the new goblin queen. By then, you will have had consolidated your kingdom, and between now and then, you will make no plans involving the goblin kingdom without the consent of either of its regents." Then she smiled, a little ruefully, at her old friend whom she met for only two times, "And at the reception, you _will_ tell me everything that happened, from the beginning. Everything," she repeated, emphasizing.

Keith nodded, slowly. "Agreed," he said. Then he took a deep breath, and was back to his façade once more. "Well, then, I must be off," he said, bowing to each of them in farewell. "I'll show myself out – and congratulations on you both," he added, with a small smile. He walked to the window, opened it, and with one final bow at them both, he jumped out.

Right afterwards, Sarah saw a raven soar up into the sky, in a hurry to get home. only then did she turn to Jareth, with uncertainty colouring her voice. "I'm... Oh, I'm sorry, Jareth, was that all right? I acted without thinking again – I probably should have gotten your agreement, before I said that."

Jareth shook his head. "I was going to agree," he admitted, "and I think for the first time exercising your rights, that went fabulously. Do wait next time, however," he added, with humour, and was awarded by her smile.

"Do you think it's all right, though?" Sarah looked outside the window once more, wonderingly.

"He's a devious sort and I don't trust him," Jareth said bluntly, "But for now, I think we can let him do what he wants. He'll be busy enough trying not to get killed, in any case. He must have been pretty desperate for our support if he came himself all this way." Desperate, or didn't have anyone he could trust at the moment.

"Ah." Sarah turned back to him once more.

"Do you know," Jareth said suddenly, casually, "He said that you thought of me when you were with him. That he reminded you much of me – that maybe you wanted him to be me."

Sarah seemed to consider it for a moment. "There was a certain likeness," she said slowly. "Which, of course, he did on purpose. And yes, I did think of you when I was with him – in those dreams."

She cast him a sideways look then, one that made him catch his breath. "But you know, I don't think I ever thought of him, when I was with you. I wonder why that was…"

Jareth's only answer was to pull her into his embrace and kiss her.

After a while, she pushed him away. "Jareth," she said, seriously, as a thought occurred to her. "Can I... I _can_ visit my parents, and friends, right? They'll already be worried so much, and I've just gone missing..."

Jareth frowned. "You _can,_" he said, a bit uncertainly, "But you will have to learn how to travel between the worlds... that might take some time."

"The labyrinth said it could take too long for me to actually see any of them alive," Sarah said, studying him carefully.

Ah. So that had been her test. Jareth shrugged. "You're the goblin queen," he told her, truthfully. "You... you can exert control over the magic of the labyrinth as not many can. I think you'll be able to learn if quicker than that, especially if that had been your test, since you've obviously mastered the labyrinth and passed it."

"How long?" Sarah asked, a little anxiously.

"More than a week," Jareth said, with a small smile. "Perhaps less than a year, maybe a bit more."

Sarah froze at that. A year... a year, in which her families will be missing her, her friends wondering where she had disappeared to... a year, after which when she finally learned to appear Aboveground, she would have to explain to everyone just where she had been, all this time...

"Can't it be less?" Sarah asked, apprehensively.

"It all depends on you," Jareth told her. "But be aware: it's difficult to control magic."

It wouldn't be just magic. She was going to have to face Hoggle, and the rest of her friends, and explain just what the hell had happened. She was going to have to learn how to control the goblins, which she had very, very little experience of but knew instinctively that it would be frustrating. She was going to have to deal with... by gods, she was married, right after her high school graduation, Sarah realized with a jolt.

Everything had changed. Nothing could turn back, not now. A whole new life had begun for her, effectively ending her old life, and it promised to be full of frustrations, difficulties, and adventures.

And throughout it all...

Sarah looked at Jareth in the eye, and smiled. "It'll be a piece of cake," she said, with a mischievous tilt of her head. Jareth laughed out loud at that.

Maybe it wasn't a new life, starting all over again. Maybe it was just the beginning of a new chapter.

And throughout it all, she knew her goblin king would always be with her, from now till the end of the book that marked her life, throughout all the chapters of her life.

* * *

Thank you to everyone who stayed on this rocky ride till the end!

I can't thank you enough – I'll never forget this experience!

Hope you enjoyed reading _The Chapters of Life_ as much as I enjoyed writing it,

and hope you'll have only happiness in the new year ;)

I love you all so much.

Thanks again, and cheers!


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